Walking on Thorns
by trinity6diversia
Summary: When the Jedi Council deems a marriage between Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala to be suitable for supplying some much needed Force-sensitive younglings to the Order, they fail to remember just how unpredictable these two are when they're together.
1. Chapter 1

**A new story! Yep. I wanted to work on one of my others, but they all seemed predicable for some reason, and I haven't thought of anything random to throw in, so I decided to write a new story, with a random objective. That being, no objective at all.**

**I honestly don't know where the inspiration for this came. I've been thinking about "The Sound of Music" all day, so that might be it. I think Maria and Georg's relationship is one of the freshest in the world. And I have no idea how that works into this story, except it does.**

**Anyway, yeah, a new Anakin/Padmé story, and I hope you guys like it. I wanted one that didn't have pregnancy in it, but still had lots of romance, and a new side to the two of them together. Please comment and review, and let me know what you think of it!**

**{t6d}**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Anakin Skywalker was nervous.

Anakin Skywalker was _never_ nervous.

Nor was he intimidated.

Which made this situation even more unusual.

Because he was intimidated.

_Very_ intimidated.

And he knew how bad it was because every Jedi in that room was cringing from the intensity of his Force signature. Try as he might, he could hide his thoughts and feelings, but not the overwhelming _fear_ that was dominating his being. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Master Windu rub his forehead, a grimace on his face.

"Relax, Anakin," hissed Obi-Wan beside him, leaning in so that he didn't have to raise his voice.

"You tell me how and I'll do it," answered Anakin with a clipped tone.

"Breathe."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Just do it!" It was clear from his whispered urgency that Obi-Wan, the closest Jedi to Anakin, wasn't going to take his intense presence in the Force much longer.

So Anakin did as he was told. He breathed. In. Out. Slowly. Just like he did during training… or meditation. Which he was now regretting not having completed that morning. He needed meditation. Force, did he need it! And it was the one thing he'd skipped because he hadn't deemed it important.

_Idiot_, he told himself, but kept breathing. After a moment; _What's __**taking**__ so long?!_

"Patience, Anakin," said Obi-Wan, and Anakin knew his aggravation could be sensed. "We haven't been here that long."

"Easy for you to say," hissed the young Knight in response. "You're not the one getting _married_."

"Lucky me." The reply was meant to sound bored, but when Anakin shot his old Master a look, he saw a smug expression on the man's face. Lucky him indeed. He always did have the easy role, unlike Anakin, the "Chosen One", or so they kept saying.

Turning back to the vast audience in front of them, Anakin thought maybe now was a good time to start counting the congregation. For no reason, other than to stave off his boredom… and irritation. He got to fifty-three, then gave up because people kept moving around, and not even a challenge of that sort could make him forget what awaited him. He hooked a hand under his tunic to loosen it, suddenly feeling very hot and finding it hard to breathe. He wondered if he should mention it to Obi-Wan. He was sure there was some ventilation problem that he needed to look into. He wondered if she'd kill him when she saw the state of his tunic, if he slipped out to check the systems.

_I could get them scanned over before she even __**gets**__ here,_ he thought. _Either that or suffocate._

Then he leaned toward Obi-Wan and spoke aloud.

"Why couldn't we elope? I mean, what's the point of so many people? It doesn't make it any different."

"Yes it does," answered Obi-Wan grimly. "You've easily got a thousand witnesses right here. If you eloped, where would the witnesses be? You could easily claim to be married, and not have actually done it."

"So the Council still doesn't trust me." It wasn't a question.

"Trust you, yes. With her, no."

"I'd be a good little boy."

"You'd be innocent as a virgin, Anakin. In fact, you'd _be_ a virgin. You wouldn't get within a thousand parsecs of her if you were left to your own devices."

"And how can you be sure we're going to do anything anyway? Are you going to post a hundred witnesses in our bedchambers tonight?"

Then he saw Master Windu staring hard at them, at the very moment Obi-Wan did, and the question was left hanging. It wouldn't do for the pristine Jedi Master to catch the less than decent conversation taking place at the alter.

It was well that it happened, for at that moment, when Anakin's attention was again turned toward the doors at the end of the massive room, the doors opened, and the moment he'd been dreading for months now had finally arrived. He took a deep breath and glanced at Obi-Wan, who shrugged in response, then they both turned back to the doors, even as the first of the procession started down the aisle.

The procession lasted for a good half hour. There were any manner of people involved. Family, friends, younglings chosen for their cute faces. Two dogs were chosen to carry the rings. They were well trained dogs. One, a golden mutt named Thunder, belonged to Anakin, the other, a sassy black bitch named Lady, was _her's_. And each carried a pillow in their mouths with the rings. But, adorable as they seemed together, the entire length of the aisle was one long growling match, with a few strikes every once in a while. They did what the electromagnetic collars around their necks told them to, but that didn't mean they liked each other. Anakin, for one, was just about to leap forward and relieve his dog of the nasty device when Obi-Wan grabbed his arm and all eyes turned once more toward the doors. Even Anakin was taken aback.

There, standing in the doorway, on her father's arm, was the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. She was short; much shorter than Anakin. And small, though her size contradicted her strength. Her body was beautifully curved, and in just the right places. Big brown eyes looked out from her gorgeous face and long brown hair flowed in curls down her back. Anakin was alright with that. The only thing he liked most about her was her hair, which was never down, always up. Except now. Maybe she'd noticed.

The veil was sheer, so much so that Anakin could see her eyes from the other end of the room. They were on him. And he chose to meet them, not roll his eyes like this was the worst day of his life. Which it was, but if she was happy, he guessed he could allow himself to be lenient. From her perspective, it wasn't every day you married a Jedi Knight. So he'd let it pass.

Then, with growing irritation, Anakin noticed that they were waiting for the fighting dogs to get down the aisle. Which was no easy task. It was a long enough distance to begin with, made only longer if you had to wait for everyone else to get in place. Anakin rolled his eyes then, and glanced at Obi-Wan, who again shrugged.

Then the dogs were in place, and the music started, and in slow, measured steps, Senator Padmé Amidala, the future wife of Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, started down the aisle on the arm of her father. And much as Anakin wanted to drop his ceremonial cape and make for the nearest exit, all he could do was watch. He knew every second that passed lowered his chances of escape, but the flow of her dress was mesmerizing, and the closer she got to where he stood, the more he could see the lines on her face, which told him that she was no happier than he was.

Then she was standing there, and the music had stopped, and the holy man was saying something. And Ruwee lifted Padmé's hand to Anakin, who took it without knowing what he was doing. Then she was walking toward the holy man, and with a jolt, Anakin realized that all eyes were on him. With one final pleading glance at Obi-Wan, he turned and fell into step with her as they made their way to the holy man, who then proceeded to speak over them.

Anakin closed his eyes and tried to breathe carefully. He could feel Padmé standing beside him, in a similar state as he was. She wasn't a Jedi, so she couldn't easily hide the torrent of emotions which were threatening to overwhelm her. Anakin focused on those, blocking out all but a murmur of what the holy man was saying.

Through Padmé's emotions, Anakin was able to sense several things. Firstly, that she was scared, more so than he was, and that fear was mainly about whether she could make him happy, whether she'd be a good wife, whether she could do what he asked of her. She was also intimidated, just as he was. And deathly nervous. And she knew that every Jedi in that room could tell what she was thinking, which Anakin was impressed that she knew about, and was trying extremely hard to hold her emotions in check. A valiant effort, but pointless.

Then the holy man was telling them to join hands and they were forced to turn toward each other. Anakin found himself staring at Padmé's hands, but knowing how strange that might appear, he raised his eyes to look into hers, which were staring straight ahead, at the front of his tunic. A moment later, she too lifted her eyes to meet his. And in that way they stood, as was expected of them, and the holy man continued to speak, his voice echoing through the great hall.

Anakin answered the questions he was asked, as did Padmé. Their answers were short and blunt, and the manner of their separate tones made it quite clear that neither of them wished to be there. Then Anakin gave his consent to joining the marriage, and Padmé did likewise, with an eye roll that only he was able to see. And the dogs came foreword, almost on cue, as Anakin observed, and with a great sense of hate, which he knew was not allowed in the Jedi Order, he visualized strangling the person who had ordered the electromagnetic collars.

_Probably Master Windu_, he thought smugly.

Then the dogs were there, and both he and Padmé retrieved the rings, and almost robotically, placed them on each other's fingers. It was all methodical, almost hypnotizing, the manner through which the ceremony took place, and Anakin almost wished that someone would slap him so he wouldn't fall asleep through boredom.

And finally the holy man pronounced them man and wife, and when they were bidden to kiss, Anakin leaned down and kissed Padmé on the cheek, as she did likewise to him. It was not what anyone had wanted, but it's what they got, and so the room erupted in violent cheering. Anakin glanced back at Obi-Wan, who was smiling proudly, then he gave his arm to Padmé, who took it, and together, they descended the stairs from the dais.

At the bottom of the stairs were the two dogs, and almost on impulse, Anakin waved his hand and the electromagnetic collars broke free and fell clattering to the floor. Then the dogs were no longer bound, and as such, proceeded to kill each other. There was a great growling and barking, and a black ball of fur, followed closely by a golden ball of fur, flew down the aisle toward the open doors. Anakin glanced at Padmé, who's eyes were shining as they hadn't done through the entire length of their engagement, and almost together, they started running down the aisle after their dogs. Padmé yanked off her veil as Anakin threw off his cloak, and she hitching up her skirts, they took to their heels. And as they disappeared through the doors at the end of the massive hall, the audience suddenly realized that the bride and groom had disappeared, and were frantic to follow.

Alas, it was a pointless endeavor, for no one ever found Anakin Skywalker, nor Padmé, or any sign of the dogs, and the reception was a boring affair as a result. Obi-Wan Kenobi had disappeared as well, but who cared to mention that?


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey look! A massively long chapter! I was expecting to spend only an hour on this, but the chapter kept going, and I wasn't gonna let Anakin rest until some things had been explained and contemplated, so I just kept going. It ended up taking me two hours, so I've not gotten a lot done today. That will soon change. Late as it is, I've got stuff to do. So, while I do that, you guys can read this. Please be sure to comment and review. If you don't like what I've done to the Jedi Order, don't worry, I'm not liking it either. I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but I sort of what to fix this messed up relationship Anakin and Padmé have, then I'll go back and see what I can do about the Order. This is driving me crazy, because I just want to write about Anakin and Padmé, but at the same time, I've got to remember all this stuff about Palpatine being an a**, and the Clone Wars, and the Jedi Order's stupid rules, some of which I've shot down, which you will find out by the end of this chapter. I hate politics. Unfortunately, for this to be a good story, there's got to be some. So, anyway, enjoy, and if you have any suggestions, PLEASE let me know. I'd love to hear them. I might even throw some in the following chapters. :)**

**{t6d}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Padmé Amidala was tired.

Padmé Amidala _never_ got tired.

She had the reputation for being the very last person to back down. If there was a problem, she would stay until it was fixed. She'd had to when she was Queen. And now as a Senator, she felt it her duty to see to her people before herself. It was not unheard of for Padmé Amidala to manage only on four hours of sleep. And she was never tired, no matter how little sleep she got.

Padmé _Skywalker_, however, was a different story.

She was tired.

And she'd slept quite well the night before, thanks in part to the drugs her mother had slipped her before bed. She wished her mother was there to slip her some more drugs. She was going to need them.

With an aggravated sigh, Padmé gritted her teeth in annoyance. A severe headache was making her thinking slow, and she rubbed her temple as hard as she could in hopes of alleviating it. To no avail. It wasn't possible.

"I _asked_ you what you thought of the idea," she was saying now, through clenched teeth, trying valiantly to keep from exploding. "You said it wasn't necessary."

"No, I said it was pointless," came Anakin's calm reply. He was standing on the open balcony while Padmé was seated inside, on the large sofa, facing him. His arms were crossed across his chest and he was leaning on the railing, doing his best to keep his own temper in check.

"And why would it be pointless?" demanded Padmé, and Anakin was afraid her breaking point was quickly approaching.

"Because, technically, we don't even like each other. Why should we go _anywhere_ when it's destined for failure? Come on, would you rather stay here and work, or take a vacation with the last person in the galaxy you ever want to be in contact with?"

"Is that a question?!"

Anakin was pressing his luck, but he figured she might have a tiny bit more composure to work with, so he continued.

"What, you _want_ to go?"

"What do you think?!"

"I think you can't make up your mind."

Padmé bolted upright, but that only aggravated her headache and she stamped her foot while she vigorously rubbed her temple and tried to breathe. After a minute she spoke, and her voice was a strained sort of calm that Anakin feared more than silence.

"I _think_ that I would like to get out of here for a few days. Master Windu said the Council would pay for our honeymoon, so why don't we just take advantage of that? We don't have to like each other, but can't we agree that a break would be welcome? A few days without orders. Haven't we gotten too many of those recently?"

"You have a point," agreed Anakin with a tip of his head, then there was silence, and when he looked up at Padmé, he saw her still grimacing, but trying to appear stronger than she was. The pain of her headache could be felt through the Force like a strong electrical current, and it was starting to irritate Anakin. "Good gosh, woman, sit down before you fall down."

"I'm going to bed," was all she said, then lurched forward, toward her bedroom. _Their_ bedroom.

Anakin shook his head and turned to look out at the vastness of Coruscant. He was tired too, which was strange for him, even as it was for Padmé. He could fight epic battles for days on end, but one day off to get married exhausted him. That, or having a new wife to fight with. He had to admit, the various arguments they'd had since the wedding kept things entertaining. They'd managed to work pretty well together in their attempt to flee the Temple, but once they were on their way back to Padmé's apartment at 500 Republica, it had been one long argument. Anakin was driving too fast. Anakin had missed a traffic signal. Anakin had evaded a security official. Anakin did this, Anakin did that. And by the time they'd landed on Padmé's personal parking deck, Anakin had also perfected the art of ignoring.

Padmé didn't nag, contrary to popular belief. When Anakin was driving, she knew there was nothing she could do. But she could irritate him. That, he was sure, was her objective all along. And she'd succeeded.

Now here he stood, looking out at Coruscant, and he felt like a caged beast. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaning his hands on the railing. His life was getting tricky. It now consisted of evasion. Occasionally, though, that wouldn't work, so then he needed to perfect the art of pleasing his wife. And there was no way he was going to do that the old fashioned way, with love making and hardcore sex. He'd heard tales of how that made women swoon, but something told him that wouldn't work on Padmé, and there was no way in Sith's hell he was going to give it a try. Not with her.

No, he'd have to, somehow, locate the names and numbers of every store in Coruscant which sold perfume, jewelry, chocolate and flowers. And he'd have to convince the Council to give him more money. If he was going to succeed in this task they'd put up for him, he'd need resources.

Anakin sighed irritably. If it weren't for the stupid Council, he wouldn't be in this situation. No, that wasn't entirely true. The Council was merely exploiting his greatest weakness: his midichlorian level. Now the swarm of memories returned.

_Shmi Skywalker, a single mother, with no good reason as to how her son got conceived, or who the boy's father was, disembarking from a transport at the Coruscant spaceports. On her hip rested her two-year-old son Anakin, his eyes as blue as the sky as he stared about him at the awesome sight of the galaxy's capitol._

_Shmi was a waitress at a pub in Mos Eisley, on Tatooine, where Anakin had been born. She'd learned about the Jedi from a space pilot, and eager to see if her son qualified to be one of their ranks, she'd gotten a doctor to take a small blood sample from Anakin so that she might send it to the Jedi testing labs on Coruscant. They'd responded almost immediately, requesting her to bring the boy to the Jedi Temple for further testing._

_Now here she was, on Coruscant, and a Jedi escort was awaiting her._

_As it turned out, the Council was more than interested in the story of Anakin Skywalker. They talked for many long hours to sort out every bit of information Shmi had. There was very little. Anakin had been conceived in a way beyond the knowledge of any of them, and judging from his midichlorian count, they thought perhaps he'd been conceived by them. It was a strange idea, and terrified poor Shmi Skywalker when she found out, but it was the most logical explanation._

_A week later, Shmi was set to return to Tatooine, but this time, little Anakin was not going with her. She'd agreed to leave the boy in the hands of the Jedi, to be trained as one. They called him the_ Chosen One_, and were convinced he would bring balance to the Force. As a mother, Shmi was proud of that fact, and so was at peace when she gave him up. Any other mother would have fought to the end, but not Shmi, and once Anakin got older, he wondered at that. He was content just to believe that, though she was his mother, Shmi had feared him more than a mother should, simply for his strange conception. He wasn't strange. He knew that. If he were, he would have been hunted. But she had feared him nonetheless._

_Shmi never came back. When Anakin was five-years-old, the Council was informed that she had died. Hit in the head by a beer bottle during a late night run at the pub. Her death had come as a result._

The memory faded and Anakin once more found himself on the balcony overlooking Coruscant. He took a deep breath. He never knew his mother, nor remembered her. He'd always wondered why she hadn't tried to find a better life when she had the chance. Here the Council was, offering to pay for an expensive honeymoon for Anakin and Padmé. They would have supplied Shmi with a job and a house if she'd only asked.

Then Anakin closed his eyes, another memory forcing it's way to the front of his mind.

_Padmé. She'd looked like an angel when he first saw her. He was nine years old and immediately in love. She was fourteen, and dressed in the orange dress of the Queen's handmaidens. She __**was**__ a handmaiden, for all he knew at the time, and for many hours they'd been content to sit and talk in one of the great hallways of the Theed Palace. Only now did Anakin realize that his old Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, had put Padmé in charge of keeping Anakin out of trouble. That was no encouraging thought._

_Then there was the threat of war, and Anakin had gone with Qui-Gon and his old apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, to speak to the Council. Padmé had gone with the Queen to speak to the Senate. Then chance had brought them all together again to return to Naboo, where they found a less than convincing sight. The planet was overrun by Separatists, and what resulted was a battle of epic proportions. Anakin managed to steal a royal starfighter and break through the enemies defenses to blow the command ship to bits. It was his first act of valor, though not his last. And then Qui-Gon had died fighting a Sith Lord, who was subsequently killed by Obi-Wan. Such darkness, and pain._

_After Qui-Gon's funeral, the Council had put Obi-Wan in charge of Anakin's training. They'd returned to Coruscant, and Anakin did not see Padmé again for a very long time. He almost forgotten her, but not quite. He still saw her face when he thought of angels._

_Ten years passed, and the war raged, thinly spread in the far reaches of the galaxy. A few Jedi were sent to keep order, but that was the extent of the effect this growing threat had on the Republic. No one was concerned about it, but concern or not, it was still a threat, and a massive clone army was ordered to be made by the Supreme Chancellor, Palpatine, when Anakin was nineteen. He and Obi-Wan returned from a year long mission in the Outer Rim to sit on the Senate, on behalf of the Council. There he had met Padmé again._

_Now she was a spunky twenty-four-year-old Senator, intent on destroying this clone army before it was made. War was the last thing she wanted, and Anakin had to agree with her. It would only make matters worse._

_As it were, neither of their attempts made much of a difference, and the creation act for the clone army was passed anonymously. Then things started moving faster than they should have, and by Anakin's twentieth birthday, the Republic was at war with the Separatists, who had increased the numbers of their own army and now had several Sith Lords within their ranks. So the galaxy fell into darkness, and for the next three years, Anakin and Obi-Wan spent their lives on the front lines. Anakin was supplied with his first and only Padawan learner, a_ _Togruta princess by the name of Ahsoka Tano. She was one of the greatest warriors Anakin had ever had the chance to fight with, and for the length of the Clone Wars, as this war was called, Anakin trained her._

_Then Anakin's twenty-second birthday approached, and at almost the same time, word came from Shili that Ahsoka's father, the ruling monarch of the Togruta people, had died. Ahsoka, the only known heir to her father's crown, turned in her resignation to the Jedi Order and returned to Shili. Her withdrawal hurt Anakin deeper than he would have admitted. He loved her as a sister, and having her leave left a mark on his heart._

_The Clone Wars were raging harder now, and the battles were quickly becoming a struggle for survival as the Jedi fought to hold their ground. After a particularly difficult mission, Anakin returned to Coruscant to discover that the Council now had a much different plan for his life. He was to marry Senator Padmé Amidala, whom he had seen occasionally over the expanse of the Clone Wars, and whom he admired for her strength and resolve. The Council knew how he admired her, and so were of the opinion that he wouldn't mind the marriage. They were wrong. Anakin might have come to love the Senator, if left to his own devices, but when ordered to, he could not find love within him._

_Anakin should have been pleased. Marriage was not popular within the Jedi Order. If it were commanded by a species, it was allowed. If it were well placed and given the approval of the Council, it was also allowed. Were a Jedi to marry without seeking the Council's decision on the matter, it would mean expulsion. Therefore, having the Council actually __**form**__ a union between a Jedi and someone else was considered extra special._

_But Anakin wasn't pleased by it, because the Council's objective was a lot clearer than they would have admitted._

_To the Jedi Council, Anakin Skywalker __**was**__ the Force. The Force ran through him like lightning ran through the sky. It gave him life. It gave him energy. It gave him power. He __**was**__ power. The Council had used him to their advantage. He had fought their battles, lead their armies, used his strength to give them the upper hand. But he was nearing on twenty-three years of age. He had fought constantly for three years, even longer if you included what he'd done before the start of the Clone Wars. He was a seasoned warrior, but his luck was running thin._

_The Council knew that, the more time passed, the higher then chance that Anakin Skywalker would die. He would be killed or be run down to the point of incurable exhaustion. Eventually, his body would betray him. He was a fighting man, but even __**he**__ had only so much strength._

_So the Council was using a new tactic._

_Anakin Skywalker __**was**__ power, so why not make __**more**__ power. That is, why not __**breed**__ him?_

_It was a disgusting proposition, and appalling. Anakin had chosen to ignore it, but the closer to his wedding they got, the more he couldn't ignore it. They were marrying him off so he would legitimately conceive Force-sensitive younglings. And they were marrying him to Senator Amidala because she had influence in state. It was the perfect combination of power and power._

Now here Anakin stood, and when he opened his eyes again, he realized that he was gripping the railing so hard that his knuckles were turning white. The Council had ordered his marriage to Padmé for the mere sake of exploiting his greatest asset… or weakness? It made him cringe. It made him want to wring someone's neck.

"Why was I powerless to stop this?" asked Anakin to himself. He wrenched his gaze off the expanse of Coruscant and glanced back into the apartment, in the direction that Padmé had gone. Stretching out his feelings, he brushed on her consciousness and found her fast asleep, the pain beginning to recede. He sighed and gritted his teeth. "She doesn't deserve this." She'd been used, even more than he had, and for that, he hated the Council.

Just then, the bell tolled, informing Anakin that someone was on their way up to their apartment. He walked back inside, shivering when he realized how cold it actually was outside, and closed down the shade covering the balcony. He ran through the apartment with his senses, using the Force to lock everything that could be locked. He knew Captain Typho normally did it, but tonight, the Captain had retired in an attempt to give them a bit of privacy. Not that they really needed it. Their lives, it seemed, were an open book.

Then the doors to the elevator opened to reveal Obi-Wan, standing patiently in the lift, his hands folded in front of him.

"Master," acknowledged Anakin with a nod of his head and a twist of his wrist in the direction of the sitting area of Padmé's apartment. "Make yourself at home."

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," answered Obi-Wan, but the tone to his voice was not sly, but sympathetic.

"No, you're fine," said Anakin, collapsing on one of the sofa's while Obi-Wan sat down across from him. "Padmé wasn't feeling well. She's already gone to bed."

"A very eventful first night, I take it," observed Obi-Wan, but he wasn't smiling. Anakin frowned in response.

"She wants to go on the honeymoon. I think it's pointless, but whatever makes her happy. You'd have to be an idiot not to notice how tired she is. A think a trip would do her well."

"She's only gotten tired since joining up with this plot," observed Obi-Wan dryly, and Anakin looked away, hating to agree with him, but knowing the truth of it. "Which reminds me. I slipped away right after you did. I'm not exactly into the whole party thing, especially if you're not there. You might have made it interesting." He grinned good-naturally, then fished around in the pocket of his tunic. "I brought you the Council's compensation." He pulled out an envelope and handed it to Anakin. "There should be enough credits in there for you and Padmé to have a fairly decent honeymoon. We would have made reservations, but I was able to convince the Council out of that. If you're okay with taking a few extra minutes during your trip to find places to stay, it would be a good way to slip under the Council's radar. I wasn't sure if they were going to spy on you while you were gone."

"Thanks Obi-Wan," answered Anakin, and the gratitude was clear in his voice. "Padmé will love the idea."

"I thought she might," agreed Obi-Wan, then stood up. "I only came to bring you that. I should leave now. You need your sleep. The Council has offered you the use of one of their skiffs. I said I'd mention it to you."

"Another method of spying?" observed Anakin dryly. "Thanks, but no thanks. We'll take Padmé's skiff. If you could stop by Captain Typho's quarters on your way down, could you have him get the ship ready for an early morning departure?"

"Of course," answered Obi-Wan, then there was silence for a moment. "Good luck Anakin."

"Thanks Master."

Then Obi-Wan, with a nod of his head, turned and was gone.

For several minutes, Anakin just sat there, staring at nothing. After a while, he roused himself, reaching out toward Padmé one more time, only to find her headache completely gone, though her sleep was troubled. She was searching for something. _Probably me,_ thought Anakin grimly, then he shook himself and stood up, calling for R2 as he stretched. The droid came, and Anakin fit the envelope of credits into one of the safety compartments he'd been able to locate. The droid was full of surprises, one of them being the fact that he was perfect for using as a safe.

Then Anakin shut off the lights with a wave of his hand, double-checked the locks on all the doors, and made for the bedroom. C-3P0 had already been powered down, and without bidding, R2 went to his charging station, so that he could be in top-notch condition come morning.

Silently, Anakin slipped into the bedroom, palming the door shut so as not to wake Padmé. She was lying on one side of the bed, looking as if she'd purposefully left the other side undisturbed. Anakin couldn't tell if she normally slept like that, or if she'd done it specially for him. With a wave of his hand, he dimmed the curtains a little more, so as to reduce the light from the traffic, then slipped into the closet to change into his sleep pants. He went shirtless. It was pointless to dress higher than he normally did for the sake of modesty. There was no modesty when it came to wedding nights. His and Padmé's was as discrete as it came.

On silent feet, Anakin made his way to the bed, carefully lifting the sheets from his side of the bed so as not to disturb Padmé. There was a low whine, and he quickly turned to see Thunder approaching from Padmé's personal sitting room, which was attached to her bedroom. No door separated the two rooms.

Anakin waved the dog off, and obediently, Thunder turned and returned to his post. There was no sign of Lady. Anakin could tell that Thunder hadn't killed her… yet… and that the two canine's were getting better acquainted, simply by having to spend every waking moment together. His worry in that regard quickly faded as he felt Thunder take up his spot on the veranda, watching out, not only for Anakin and Padmé, but for Lady as well. Nothing would get past him.

Then, worry at last aside, Anakin slipped between the sheets, welcoming the warmth. Padmé stirred beside him and turned over so that she was facing him. She yawned and slowly opened her eyes.

"Are you just now getting to bed?" she asked when she saw Anakin fiddling with his comlink, trying to turn it off in the dark. Task complete, he set it down on the bedside table and burrowed down in the blankets, turning as he did so to face her.

"Yup. And you?"

"I was asleep."

"I know."

"How?"

"Jedi. Remember?"

"Oh, yes." She didn't sound bitter, just tired.

There was a moment of silence, then Anakin spoke again.

"Obi-Wan came by. He brought us the credits the Council promised for our honeymoon."

"We're going, then?"

"First thing in the morning."

"What's wrong then?"

Anakin didn't respond immediately, then sighed and turned on his back.

"I'm afraid the Council will try to follow our every move. They don't trust anything we do. We'll have to be extra careful."

Padmé said nothing, and when Anakin dared a glance at her, she wasn't asleep, as he had originally suspected. Her face was lined with worry, so badly that Anakin felt compelled to take her in his arms. Which, upon compulsion, he did, reaching over to brush the hair out of her face. She snuggled closer to him, almost instinctively.

"I don't like this," she said softly, and Anakin kissed the top of her head in a soothing manner that he didn't quite understand. This wasn't his way. He was a violent warrior, not a lover, and here he was… No, he wouldn't think about it.

"I don't like it either," he said shortly, and for several long minutes they lay there, Padmé in Anakin's arms, Anakin staring at the far wall, wondering what in Sith's hell he was doing. Then Padmé's breathing stretched out, and when he looked down at her, he found her fast asleep, her hands pressed up against his chest. In her sleep, she was slowly brushing her fingers down the warm tightness of his abs. It was a very strange feeling to Anakin. It was almost as if he _did_ care.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he removed one of his arms from around this woman who was his wife. Then Padmé latched onto his other arm and he was reduced to leaving it there, wrapped around her small form. And so he fell into a restless state of half consciousness, not knowing what he was doing, and not particularly caring.

He wasn't in love. That much, he knew was true.

_Force, I hope I'm right_, he thought, and that was his last thought before sleep consumed him.


	3. Chapter 3

**I wrote the first half of his chapter, then looked it over and thought, "This is terrible. So predictable." But there's no way I was going to delete it, because it was way too much work to put together, so then I thought about this fanfic I read the other day. Anakin was envisioning an erotic encounter with Padmé, an****d it was turning out so well, and they were almost there and... well, just read this chapter to find out what I did to, uh, work with that.**

**Please remember to review! That keeps me going, guys!**

**{t6d}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

It wasn't the sort of wakeup call Anakin was looking for.

He wasn't expecting it, at least.

He should have.

He'd let his defenses down a little too far, and now he was paying the price.

"What in the name of…?!" Her voice pulled Anakin out of his deep slumber, and before he could react, he found himself landing very hard on the floor. The blankets were wrapped up around his waist and a second later, a pillow landed hard on his head. He struggled to sit up, his heart pounding in his chest, trying in vain to wake up faster. He was used to the heat of battle. For a second, he wondered if he was actually on the front lines. Then he realized he was, only in a different sort of way.

"Have you lost your mind?!" he yelled, struggling to untwist himself from the blankets, so angry that he was failing to observe some important things.

"Not another move, mister!" warned Padmé in a very hostile voice. "Don't you dare move."

"What the Force is wrong with…" And then Anakin stopped as Padmé held up his sleep pants for him to see. The minute he laid eyes on them in her hands, he stopped trying to get out of the sheets and instead made to pull them back up over him. He was in shock, more than she was. Or else she'd already gotten over it.

"I swear I didn't…"

"Don't get that way with me, Anakin Skywalker," warned Padmé in that same voice. "Now you put your pants back on this instant or I swear you will spend the next year sleeping on the couch… outside!"

Anakin's eyes were wide, either with fear or shock, it wasn't clear. Padmé had been more than willing to have his arms around her the night before, and now she'd completely turned around. Anakin knew nothing about women. The life course he'd gotten in the Temple pressed on a few things, but not enough for him to work by. Ahsoka had had tempers, that was true. Obi-Wan understood it. Anakin guessed his old Master had gotten around a bit. He called it "PMS", whatever _that_ meant. Now Anakin was content to call _this_ "PMS", and decided he'd look up the definition as soon as he could.

Padmé had turned away from him and was sitting on the edge of the bed to put on her slippers. She'd thrown him his sleep pants, and he knew she was expecting him to put them on. He was about to, then he thought better of it. He was in hot water, that much was certain, but he was the "Hero With No Fear", remember? He could handle this.

"Why aren't you moving?" asked Padmé, glancing over her shoulder at him as she stretched.

"You told me not to."

"I told you to put your pants on."

He bent his head, staring at her as she stood up, her nightgown hugging her slim form. It was an intriguing sight. He was sort of turned on by it, but not quite. Not enough to jeopardize his big plan. Padmé was beautiful, but he'd dwell on that later. They had their entire lives ahead of them to figure things out.

"Did you even hear me?" asked Padmé, walking around the bed toward him, or toward the fresher, he couldn't be sure.

"Yup."

"Did you listen?"

"Yup."

"Will you please put your pants on?"

"Hm… you used the word _please_…" It was an observation, and he puzzled over it for a minute as if such a word mattered. It did, to him at least, and he was impressed by her soft voice. She wasn't trying to cover up any anger. Who knows, maybe she was hoping… No, it wasn't possible.

"Come on, just do it. I'd rather not have an introduction to the larger aspects of married life."

"Why not?"

"Oh please, would you just… ah!" The pillow hit her right in the side of the head, and Anakin was laughing at her. She wasn't mad. Vengeful, maybe, but not mad. Then she stood up and turned on him.

And that's when she saw _him_. Not Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, Hero With No Fear, General of the Grand Armies of the Republic. There was something grand there, but Padmé was sure it wasn't something anyone else had seen. And she'd not been interested in becoming the first. It was all right _there_. Drawing her in. Or repulsing her. No, not repulsing her. Anakin Skywalker was rather impressive underneath all of… No! She couldn't allow this to get to her.

"You're disgusting," she said, acting very casual about it all, and tossed her hair as she quickly turned away. She didn't want him to see the color rising in her cheeks.

"Or totally awe-inspiring," retorted Anakin quickly, and crossed the distance between them in three long strides, grabbing Padmé around the waist and swinging her up off the ground.

"Let me go!" she cried, but she was laughing, almost as if she couldn't help herself.

"Not until you admit it," he answered, swinging her up and wrapping his other arm under her legs. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and their eyes met.

"Fine, then, Master Jedi," she relented, far to quickly for her personality. "You are very impressive. I admit it."

Anakin opened his mouth to say something else, but completely forgot how to speak in the few seconds he'd spent staring into Padmé's eyes. She, too, was transfixed just as he was, and in a manner of a few seconds, their lips had descended into a powerful union. There was a lust that passed between them that had been smoldering in their eyes, but was now coming out in full force. There was no stopping.

"Ani," whispered Padmé, using his nickname for the first time in so long. "Make love to me."

And he responded by pressing his lips to hers once more and carrying her over to the bed. He gently laid her on her back, then moved his lips down to her neck and the top of her breasts, which were ever so noticeable over the top of her nightgown. And he reached for the tie which held the gown in place, ever so slowly, as her moans began to grow in his ear, she being clearly aroused and doing her utmost to…

The dream vanished in an instant, replaced by the frantic beeping of Anakin's comlink. His eyes flew open, and after a second, he realized it had all been a dream. It had been a lovely dream, but a dream nonetheless. And now here was reality. His comlink was beeping and he cursed under his breath, suddenly realizing that he hadn't turned it off like he'd meant to. This new comlink design was taking a bit more time to get used to than he would have liked. But what did that matter. It was beeping up a storm now.

Groaning, and trying not to curse too loudly, Anakin lifted Padmé's arm off his chest and passed a hand over his face, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The light from the comlink told him where it was, still on the nightstand, and rolling away from where Padmé was pressed up next to him, he grabbed it and connected the frequencies.

"What?" he whispered, loud enough to be heard through the comlink but quiet enough not to wake Padmé.

"General Skywalker, forgive me for waking you so soon," came the voice of Captain Typho. "Master Kenobi stopped by last night and said you wished to leave early this morning. I'm calling to say your ship, or rather Senator Amidala's, is ready and waiting. Half an hour more, then you may depart."

"Thank you, Captain," said Anakin, trying to hide the irritation in his voice. "We'll be there. Just make sure there aren't any tracking devices anywhere."

"Already done, sir. There weren't any."

"Good, Captain."

"Will you need assistance with the luggage?"

"No, just make sure no one gets into the hanger. We'll be there in no more than an hour."

"Right you are, sir."

Then the frequencies were cut and Anakin groaned again, dropping his face heavily to the pillow. He was still tired, and it was still dark. He wasn't interested in getting up so early. A honeymoon was supposed to be relaxed. Why couldn't this one?

After a few seconds, Anakin realized that if he lay there any longer, he'd fall back asleep. He forced himself to lift his head and look over at Padmé, who had not moved and was still fast asleep. The sight encouraged him. He was supposed to be the husband. Why not start now?

Ever so quietly, Anakin pulled the sheets off and got out of bed. His sleep pants were still on, thank goodness. That was good for several reasons, but mainly because it was cold. He shivered, then slipped into his boots and grabbed the under-tunic of his Jedi robes, wrapping it around his shoulders. That cut the chill. Then he got up, glanced once more at Padmé, and slipped out of the room in the direction of Padmé's personal veranda.

Thunder and Lady were both up when he got there. They wagged their tails wildly when they saw him, and keeping his voice low, he spoke to them. Once they were calmed down, he located Lady's food, and dished up enough for both of them. He observed as they both started eating out of the same dish, thankful that they, at least, were getting along. He didn't want to think what they'd been up to the night before.

Yawning widely, Anakin stumbled up a smaller flight up stairs to the large kitchen. It was in pristine condition, and for a moment, he wondered if Padmé ever used it. Then he happened to glance upward, at the tomato splats on the ceiling. They offered a textured appearance, and made it clear that, indeed, the kitchen had seen a fair bit of action. Anakin couldn't bring himself to do anything until the tomato was scrubbed off, guessing that it hadn't already been done because Padmé wasn't able to reach that high. It was true. He needed a chair, and he was a fair bit taller than her.

Once the kitchen was to his satisfaction, Anakin located the caf, and the caf maker, and brewed up a big pot. He drank up to three mugs every morning. He somehow didn't suspect Padmé of drinking as much, but he always liked extra, and you never know. Senators do crazy things.

Yawning again, Anakin poured up two piping hot mugs of caf, set them on a tray with cream and sugar, and searched around until he found some sort of bread that would work. Arranging them as best he could on the tray, he exited the kitchen and found himself in Padmé's main sitting room. He arched an eyebrow at the layout of the apartment, but was quite pleased that he wouldn't have to retrace his steps.

R2 beeped when he saw Anakin, and pushed himself out of his docking station. He was clearly pleased to see his new Master, and the long night of recharging had clearly done him good.

"Artoo, power up Threepio, would you? We're leaving in about half an hour. Padmé might need Threepio's help to pack."

R2 answered with a series of beeps, then turned away toward where 3P0 was kept. Anakin continued to walk toward the bedroom, using the Force to palm open the door when he couldn't use his hands.

The bedroom was still dark, and ever so quietly, Anakin set the tray down on the seat at the end of the bed. Then he went and sat on his side of the bed, leaning over to gently shake Padmé's shoulder. She took a deep breath and stretched, then opened her sleepy eyes and looked at him. He forced an easy smile.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," he whispered. "I brought caf. And Typho has the ship all up and running. We've got half an hour to get out there. We can eat breakfast once we're underway."

"I take it you have a destination in mind," she whispered back, still sleepily.

"Maybe," he answered with a smile, then stood up again and returned to the tray, grabbing one of the mugs and handing it to her. She sat up and took the mug, then took a tentative sip. It was well she did, for a minute later, a terrible look came over her face.

"What did you do to this?!" she exclaimed, and pressed a hand to her chest as her face contorted in a horrible looking grimace.

"What's wrong with it?" asked Anakin innocently, taking a long drought from his own mug. It was perfect. Black as Sith's hell and strong as a Burminian gale. It was delicious.

"Oh Anakin, I'm not sure if I should love you or hate you." Padmé shook her head and put the mug down, not tempting herself to finish it.

"I'll add some water," offered Anakin without a moment's hesitation, then took a very long glug to spare up room and retreated to the kitchen, where he added enough water to make it taste like thin tea. It was disgusting.

"Thank you," said Padmé when he returned it to her and she had tested it. "That's more how I like it."

Anakin shook his head and sighed deeply.

"I don't know how this is going to work," he said, almost dramatically. "One of us is going to have to adapt."

Padmé laughed.

"Maybe that's my job," she said. "Keep making it that way and I may get used to it."

"You better," was Anakin's good-natured response. "I need another cup. You want one?"

"Mercy no," gasped Padmé. "Are you _flying_?"

"Of course," was the simple reply.

Anakin didn't know how they managed. As soon as her caf was done, Padmé retreated to the shower, then Anakin did what he could to clean things up for their departure. He made the bed, cleaned the kitchen (again), vacuumed the floors, located the harnesses for the dogs, double-checked all the locks, and still found time to twiddle his thumbs before Padmé was dressed and had her makeup on. She'd left her hair down to air-dry.

Thankfully, all of Anakin's things were packed and ready to go. With his impending marriage, Obi-Wan had insisted upon taking Anakin shopping. Having only one set of Jedi robes was no use. He needed other, more casual things. After all, he was marrying a Senator. He needed to look the part. So now he did, and it was all ready to go.

Padmé's things were also packed. She'd packed them over the course of the week before the wedding. She needed only a few minutes for the last few items, then was ready to go. Anakin grabbed the heavy bags, swinging the lighter bags over his back, then left Padmé to handle the two dogs and the last few items of luggage. They were a strange sight leaving the apartment, and when they got into the elevator, Anakin sent Padmé a glance which was returned by her eyes laughing at the way their group looked. They did look rather humorous.

Anakin's speeder was quickly filled, and within moments, they were off for the diplomatic hangers. The trip was silent on Anakin's end. Padmé talked the entire time, of places she'd like to visit and things she'd like to do. Anakin had mentioned Obi-Wan's suggestion, of finding places to sleep as they went. It was easier that way.

Then they were at Padmé's hanger, and her ship was ready to go. Typho took his leave, wishing them a safe journey, and then their things were stowed and they were ready for takeoff. Padmé took her place in the copilot's seat while Anakin took up the main controls. The droids were in the back keeping the dogs in line. Not that the dogs needing managing. They were doing very well without any help.

Then the ship was shooting out from the hangers, and with a sideways glance at Padmé, Anakin dealt the hyperspace coordinates and the ship lurched into hyperspace. And all was silent.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Note from the Author:_**

**As always, I own nothing. All of this belongs to George Lucas and anyone else who owns Star Wars (Disney? I don't even know anymore!).**

**It was requested that I work on this story next, and thankfully, the inspiration came easily. I love this story a lot, just because of how different it is. Anakin Skywalker is so much nicer! And Padme is... I don't know, someone who needs him? Like, doesn't just WANT him, she actually NEEDS this guy. I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter. I can't say there will be any more anytime soon, but here's the good news: there's inspiration, and where there's inspiration, there's always production. :)**

**Enjoy, and MAY THE FORCE BE WITH ANYONE WHO WANTS IT!**

**{trinity6diversia}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

Anakin Skywalker fidgeted.

Anakin Skywalker _never_ fidgeted.

Well, _almost_ never.

No, take that back, he fidgeted a lot. Especially when he was bored. No, _only_ when he was bored. If he were doing something interesting… _fighting_, for example, or waging vocal _war_ against Master Windu… he would never fidget. But throw him in a boring cockpit for hours on end, and he was liable to get antsy.

Anakin Skywalker was _known_ for getting antsy.

It was dangerous.

Especially now.

Padmé had retired to her bedchamber aboard the _Whispering Winds_, claiming exhaustion. That may or may not have been the truth. It wasn't exactly like she and Anakin were jumping with joy to be in each other's presence.

The truth, as it happened to be, was that neither of them were eager to complete their "mission". Their mission being to produce a herd of Force-sensitive offspring. Simple enough, you may think, especially for two humans with such amazing chemistry. All they had to do was smile for the cameras and prove to the galaxy that they were made for each other. It really _was_ that simple. They'd already proved that.

Back at the beginning of their relationship, before either of them had any idea what the Council was up to, Anakin and Padmé had found themselves together in situations, be it a Senate gala or an inspection of the troops. Somehow they always ended up together. And they did as anyone might; they got to know each other. So when the Council came back to Anakin and instructed him with marrying Senator Amidala, it hadn't seemed that far-fetched of an idea.

Both Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala had grown and been taught that duty comes first. This wasn't necessarily the wisest teaching, but they had believed it. With Master Windu on Anakin's back, and Chancellor Palpatine on Padmé's, they had decided to give this operation a try. It was like playing with fire. You can't choose love because it could shape the future of the galaxy; but they were going to try.

Of course, the media was made a part of this affair. They were given bait from the very beginning. When Anakin and Padmé started spending more time together, the paparazzi were there, hovering. The Council and the Chancellor pushed from both directions. The marriage had to be soon, it had to be happy and it had to be publicized. And for the most part, Anakin and Padmé complied. It was their duty, after all.

But occasionally, the paparazzi became too persistent, and the privacy barrier was pushed, and when this happened, Anakin would do something rash, like he always did. He and Padmé would end up somewhere they would never be found, and they would sit there and laugh as the security squads rushed around Coruscant looking for them. It was like they were a couple of rebellious teenagers, and for a while, they were. And then real life would come back, or someone would find them, or one of their coms would go off. And the moment was gone.

Once, when the pressure from the paparazzi resulted in an emotional breakdown, Padmé had begged Anakin to run away with her, far away, where no one would never be able to find them. Anakin had wanted so badly to do just that, spirit her away in the dead of night, but he hesitated. He could have taken her into his arms, but he didn't. And Padmé had never said anything to him again after running away and leaving the Republic like fugitives. They may have had something going in that moment, but afterwards, there was nothing, and every smile Anakin received from his fiancé was a hard-won battle.

And now, slouched in the pilot's seat of the _Whispering Winds_, all of these memories came back to him, Anakin Skywalker, this Jedi Knight, so powerful and fierce, and in that moment, so vulnerable and broken. He took a deep breath.

"This is bull shit," he hissed under his breath, then pushed the button switching the controls over to auto-pilot and stood up.

"All yours, Artoo," he said to the astromech droid against the wall of the cockpit, and with a beep, the droid moved to the controls as Anakin exited the cockpit.

Anakin knew better than he should have how to navigate the sleep interior of the _Whispering Winds_. When he was younger, he'd taken a dare from a group of fellow padawans, and during a meeting in the Senate, he'd hijacked Queen Amidala's personal skiff from the Senate hangers. He didn't get far before the authorities were on his tail, and after dodging them for a record breaking amount of time, he careened onto an empty landing pad in the industrial district of Coruscant, taking out a control tower in doing so. The skiff suffered only minor damages, and Anakin hid in the cargo bays when the search teams came through. Unfortunately, when he made to escape, he was picked up by police elsewhere on the scene.

There was no word to describe Master Windu's anger after this incident. Anger being, as any Jedi knows, one of the emotions fought against in the Jedi Order. But, for a moment, Master Windu seemed to have lost his training and lit into Anakin like never before. Even Master Obi-Wan had seemed colder than ever before, but by the time Anakin was thoroughly punished, his eyes were laughing.

Telling Queen Amidala had left a colder pit in Anakin's stomach than facing Master Windu. The police had escorted him back to the Jedi Temple in cuffs; there had been no escape in that case. But when it came to facing the Senator, Obi-Wan had suggested letting him go on his own. And so Anakin had flown to the Senate building on his own, unescorted, debating how difficult it might be to escape Coruscant without anyone knowing. Then he had remembered Obi-Wan's confidence in his maturity, and decided at the last moment that he wouldn't let his Master down.

As it were, Padmé was not upset. She had been informed by the police of the incident, and had a rough assessment of the damages already in hand. When Anakin had arrived of his own free will, a spindly 13-year-old with uncombed hair and a cut on his forehead from the incident, the 18-year-old Senator had only laughed and assured him that he could rest easy. Regardless, the Council had forced Anakin to pay for the repairs.

In a way, then, Anakin owned a part of the _Whispering Winds_, and that thought caused him to smirk as he made his way down to the lower levels.

"Almost a decade," he said to himself as he stepped into the lift. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Where does all this time go?" He saw his reflection in the polished chrome of the lift and grimaced. He had seen better days. The cut above his right eye from that lightsaber duel with Asajj Ventress marred his face, and the numerous scars from battles won and lost could be felt all over his body. He was almost certain there was a gray hair somewhere in his head of dirty blond hair, curling against his neck, not nearly long enough to reach his shoulders but lengthy all the same. He wasn't vain, so he couldn't see how dashing he was regardless of the imperfections.

The lift door opened into the single bedchamber aboard the _Whispering Winds_. There was a large bed secured against the far wall, upon which lay Padmé, laying peacefully on top of the blankets, almost as if she'd fallen asleep before realizing where she was. Her chest moved slowly up and down as she breathed, deep in sleep, and that image alone was enough to cause Anakin to feel his own exhaustion.

Quietly, Anakin crossed the room and sat down on the bed to pull off his boots. He knew, without even trying, that Padmé would kill him if he put his dirty boots up on the bed. He set them aside and looked up, his eyes unconsciously resting on the envelope of credits Obi-Wan had given him the night before. Padmé must have opened it, for there was a piece of paper sticking out where he could see it. Curious, he stood up and pulled it out where he could read it. His eyes scanned the first few lines:

_Senate Editorial waiting on Mandalore for 1124 arrival. Note for the Senator: brown cashmere requested. Proceed to main complex. Republic Times waiting on Corellia for 0713 arrival, approx 150. Proceed to senatorial offices. Two interviews required._

Anakin couldn't make himself read any more. The anger was starting to grow, and he'd missed his meditation that morning, as he had the day before. He was not on a good running game in that aspect, and this didn't help. _They have our lives scheduled!_ His hand involuntarily curled into a fist. _What part of peace and quiet isn't understood by these assholes!_

"Anakin?" Padmé's sleepy voice came to him like a light in the dark of night, and he forced himself to take a deep breath to calm himself. She was tired, she was overwhelmed, and she had the worst part of this entire deal.

"I thought you were asleep." He turned away, setting the paper down and forcing a thin smile.

"I was," she answered, but she could tell that Anakin was angry over something, either by the burning in his eyes or the way his body had tensed up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered simply, collapsing on his side of the bed and closing his eyes. He tried to go to his happy place, his place of meditation, but he could feel Padmé looking at him. She was concerned, or anxious, he couldn't tell which.

"Relax," he said without opening his eyes, and his arm reached up to wrap around her waist, pulling her down beside him. Still he didn't open his eyes, and after a moment, Padmé gave up and curled into the crook of his arm. He sent tendrils of the Force out to soothe her mind, and at the first hint of contact, she stiffened.

"Relax," he said again, still not opening his eyes, and this time he gently rubbed his hand up and down her back as he soothed her mind with the Force. After a while, Padmé started to relax, and before long, her mind was calm once more and she had fallen asleep.

And then Anakin opened his eyes, not looking down at his wife sleeping at his side. He knew where she was, and knew what she looked like. She looked like an angel, as always. And that image didn't help him, for Anakin knew he was, and always had been, falling in love with Padmé Amidala… Padmé _Skywalker_.

_She doesn't deserve this,_ he thought to himself as he stared up at the low ceiling of the bedchamber and felt the hyperdrive core reverberating in the deep tech chambers of the skiff. _She could have been happy. Now… she'll never be. How did it get to this?_ And then, almost to answer his question, Anakin's thoughts turned to the simplest of things: his own heart, mind and will, and everything he'd ever known about life.

A husband, as far as Anakin knew, was the one in charge. He took care of his family, kept a roof over their heads, made sure they had the best life possible. But not only that. The husband was in charge of _protecting_ his family. Not just his children. Children would grow up and go out to live their own lives. His _wife_, on the other hand, from the moment he promised to have and to hold, was _his_. A husband was in charge of loving, cherishing, _protecting_ that which he promised to protect. And not just physically and financially. _Emotionally._ Protecting her heart, from people and situations that would try to destroy it. _That_, as far as Anakin Skywalker knew, was what a husband's main priority was, to protect the heart of his beloved.

_I'm the one in charge of keeping her safe. It's up to me. And right now… she's not safe. She never will be. Not so long as these idiots are all over us. Not so long as…_

Anakin couldn't finish his thought. It was too much to think about, but in the depths of his heart, he knew what was right. Padmé was his most important priority right now. Not the Council. Not the Order. Not the Republic. He _would_ love her, given time. He _did_ love her. He would die for her if he had to. She was his, and he would never stand to see anything happen to her.

Slowly, almost forcing himself to, Anakin looked down on Padmé's sleeping face. He could see the wrinkles on her forehead, the worry creases, and ever so gently, he reached over and touched them, carefully rubbing them out of her skin. She relaxed in his arms as his fingers softly moved down her cheek, feeling for the first time the softness of her skin.

"Anakin," she breathed, then her eyes slowly opened and she looked up into his. "What are you doing?"

Without a word, and without knowing _why_, Anakin leaned down and his lips brushed against Padmé's. It was the most emotionally spontaneous thing he'd ever done, and to his surprise, Padmé reached up and laid a hand on his chest, accepting his kiss without resistance. He could feel her fear and anxiety within the Force, and it hurt him. He brushed his hand along the curve of her neck and then pulled away.

"I'm never going to hurt you," he whispered, forcing a very small smile, but he could feel his own fear, and knew Padmé could see it in his eyes. She reached up and touched his face, tears sparkling in her eyes, then with a smile of her own, brought their lips together once more. It was the most emotionally raw moment of their lives, and they knew it.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Note from the Author:**_

**Thank you so so SO much for all of the reviews! Keep them coming! The reason I write is because of you, my readers, who take the time to tell me what you liked about each chapter, what you want to see more of, things I should add, etc. So PLEASE, keep reviewing! I love it!**

**To show how much you guys have helped me, here is another chapter. It's shorter because I wanted to get it up fast, but hopefully I'll have longer ones soon. Enjoy!**

**DawnsJediWind, make sure you _follow_ this story, that way email updates will be sent to you as new chapters are put up. :)**

**{trinity6diversia}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

It was an urgent com signal from R2 that brought Anakin out of his meditation and back to the cockpit. The droid was still at the controls, and when Anakin walked in, he acknowledged his presence with a beep, but did not move.

"What is it buddy?" asked Anakin, leaning on the dash and looking out at the pulsating hyperspace surrounding the skiff. They were moving so fast that everything was left a blur, but to Anakin, this was strangely relaxing. R2 responded to the question with a string of beeps and whirs, which Anakin could translate without assistance from the onboard computer.

"Coming up on Alderaan. Good job, Artoo."

The droid pulled away from the controls as Anakin sat down in the pilot's seat, pushing buttons as he did so to prep the vessel for coming out of hyperspace. This was his favorite part of any trip, mostly because there was a lot of stuff that needed done, but also because coming out of hyperspace in general was quite thrilling.

"Thirty seconds to resume normal speed," Anakin said, glancing back at R2 in time to see the droid plug into the navicomputer. "Prepare to engage stabilizers. Fifteen seconds. Slack off on the engines. Ten, nine, eight…"

A flashing red light on the dash, in addition to a measured beeping, took over the countdown as Anakin's hand curled around the stabilizing clutch. And then the ship was coming out of hyperspace and for a few seconds, one of Anakin's hand was flying over buttons on the control panel while his other was keeping the ship steady. All of this was done in a matter of seconds, and at the end, no one would have noticed a difference.

"Well done, Artoo," grinned Anakin, wrapping his hands around the curved steering bar. It had taken him many years to perfect the art of coming out of hyperspace, but now that he had it, it would never leave. He was a pro.

And then the door to the cockpit opened, and Padmé entered.

"Where are we?" she asked, standing behind Anakin as he steered the ship towards the planet ahead of them.

"Alderaan," he answered.

"But Alderaan isn't that far from Coruscant. Why did it take so long?" She sounded exhausted.

"I had to use a slower setting on the hyperspace formula and couldn't revert until I was away from the planet," answered Anakin. "It's complicated. Once we're out of the Deep Core, I can use a faster hyperspace formula."

Padmé didn't answer, but Anakin didn't have time to ask her if she was alright. They were being hailed by the air crew on the planet below.

"_Nubian yacht, you are in our sights. What is your destination?"_

"This is General Anakin Skywalker. We are making for the royal palace on summons from Senator Organa. Requesting permission to land."

"_What is your transfer code?"_

Anakin gave it, then there was a brief moment of silence while the ground crew sent through their request.

"_Permission to land on Platform 2-B. Have a great day, General Skywalker."_

Without a word, Anakin steered the ship in the direction of the far mountains, and the royal palace which nestled between the peaks.

"The _Galactic Intercessor_ is waiting for us here," said Padmé after a moment. "They send everything straight to Chancellor Palpatine. We'll have to take a moment for them."

"Any special requests?" asked Anakin, trying to hide the distain in his voice.

"Only the usual," she answered, then slipped out of the cockpit to change her clothes. As she did so, Anakin carefully lowered the ship onto the designated platform, trying not to notice the throngs of cameramen and reporters running towards the ship. Thankfully, security officials stopped them before they got too close.

After locking down the ship and running through the post-flight checklist, Anakin stood up and straightened his tunic, then took a deep breath and left the cockpit. R2 stayed, to make sure nothing happened while they were gone.

Padmé arrived in the main hold of the ship just as Anakin did. She was wearing a teal gown with gold and navy blue embroidery. The inside was lined in gold silk, which showed when she walked, as was the high collar. She wore her wedding ring, sparkling on her finger, and a thin circlet of silver on her brow. Her hair was pulled up in an intricate design.

"You look beautiful," said Anakin, forcing himself to smile. "I don't think anyone can honestly see me as your husband. You're like… a Nubian star skiff… and I'm a Jedi relic with wings."

"And a new paint job," smiled Padmé, reaching up to straighten Anakin's tunic on his shoulders, silently making plans to get him a new wardrobe when the situation allowed. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and back from his face, remembering how his hair had been combed back for their wedding, and how dashing he'd looked with it like that. She smiled, then reached up and kissed him on the cheek, ignoring the stubble that was starting to grow there.

"You are very handsome, my husband," she whispered.

Anakin put out his arm for her to take, and she took it, entwining her fingers with his as they turned towards the boarding ramp, which lowered as if on request. Anakin was too lazy to push the button; where there was the Force, there wasn't a need for work.

"How did you manage to get done up so fast?" he asked as they walked down the ramp towards the waiting reporters.

"Just like you manage to pull out of hyperspace so fast," she smiled. "Practice."

Anakin grinned, and the cameras flashed, and within half an hour, the picture of Anakin and Padmé Skywalker, smiling as they walked arm in arm, was on every holonet cast on Coruscant. It was the perfect deception, believed by everyone.

And then they were safe within the palace, away from the cameras and the reporters, and Senator Organa was waiting for them.

"Is this going to be an epidemic?" asked Anakin, then, grimacing as he glanced back at the throngs outside the shielded doors.

"Wherever you go, the reporters will follow," answered Senator Organa, but he did not look amused by this.

"Is there any way to shake them?" asked Padmé with a sigh, and Anakin looked at her in time to see a wave of hopelessness pass over her face before she carefully hid it. He reached over and put a hand on her back, and for a moment, she looked at him, and their eyes spoke together when no words were forthcoming.

"I'm afraid not," answered Senator Organa. "They are everywhere. They know your ship, your route, your _lives_, for the entirety of your honeymoon."

"When _don't_ they know what we're doing?" asked Anakin.

"Hyperspace," was the answer. "They can't follow you as long as you stay in hyperspace."

"Tempting," grimaced Anakin, glancing at Padmé, feeling in the Force the headache that was threatening to overwhelm her. "But impossible."

"Maybe…"

Anakin looked at the Senator, who raised his eyebrow in response. There was an unspoken communication between them in that moment, and a wave of hope started to grow within Anakin. He sent Padmé with one of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting to the apartments prepared for them, and as soon as she was gone, turned to Senator Organa.

"She's exhausted," he said then, the calm no longer in his voice. "She's been hounded by the paparazzi for fourteen years. Isn't there a time when they can leave her be?"

"What about you, General Skywalker?" asked the Senator. "You've been hounded too, for nearly as long. The Hero with no Fear. You're an idol to them."

"This isn't about me," said Anakin quickly. "This is about Padmé."

"You are part of it."

"Not nearly." He took a deep breath. "I need to get her out of her. Away from them."

"The Senate and the Jedi Council will not approve," cautioned Senator Organa. "This honeymoon is meant as a tour, of sorts. To show the galaxy their newest hope."

"Why not put us in cages on display? What happened to being humans with a right to do as we please?"

"That was gone when you said _I do_."

"No it wasn't. There's some things they can make us do, but just as many we do on our own. I'm done with this. If I'm called a traitor to the Republic, so be it. But I'm not going to stand here while the paparazzi hounds us and Chancellor Palpatine watches our life play out on his personal holocast. We are not players in this game of his."

"If you disappear, you'll have a price on your head," cautioned the Senator.

"Maybe," answered Anakin. "Or maybe not." He paused. "Will you help us?"

A sly, wily grin spread over Senator Organa's face.

"Let's go kick some Republic ass."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Note from the Author:**_

**Once more, thank you everyone for all of the reviews! They help me so much! How else could I find the momentum to keep writing? This chapter is so great, it was so much fun to write! I imagined a father/son conversation, in which, for the first time in his life, the father was listening to his son and realizing what a wise man this boy had become. And I feel like, for Bail, that's what happened. All of a sudden, Anakin Skywalker wasn't a cocky, arrogant star pilot, but rather, this amazing young man, husband, protector. For a father, I think, seeing that... that would be the most wonderful thing in the world.**

**I'm going to work on adding some Padme scenes before too long. I really want to show her perspective. I was listening to this song towards the end of writing this chapter, and realized that it _perfectly_ sums up what Padme is thinking right now, talking to Anakin like she did. Tell me what you think. Really focus on the words.**

If I could break away, cut the cord, for worse or better  
>If I could turn the page, at last and say, goodbye forever<br>But on the other side, of yesterday, beyond the heartache  
><em> What if all I am, without the pain, is empty hearted?<em>

**Thank you all again! Enjoy this chapter! There will be more!**

**{trinity6diversia}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

"Padmé, how do you find your accommodations?"

Anakin glanced up at his wife from across the table when Bail spoke. It was the first words spoken thus far in the meal, the two men not wanting to admit how awkward it already was becoming. Padmé did not rush to respond, and when she did, her answer was short.

"They are cozy. Thank you, Bail."

"Padmé," started Anakin, setting down his fork as he spoke. He felt like he was going into occupied territory. "Senator Organa has offered to let us stay for a few days. We can… run interviews and give the media something to talk about."

Padmé's eyes flashed dangerously from across the table, but she feigned calmness as she slowly set down her own fork and faced her husband. Bail took a long draught from his glass of wine and glanced quickly at Anakin, who was the picture of control, except for his stiff shoulders and white knuckles. It was like watching the renowned General Skywalker face Count Dooku, except in this case, it was his wife. This should be interesting.

"What are you suggesting, Anakin?" asked Padmé then. "You saw the schedule. You know that we aren't allowed to stay on one planet more than a day. And we have two weeks. That's fourteen planets we have to get to, and more interviews than that. The media expect it." She paused, her eyes burning holes into him. "I thought you would come up with something better."

"Like what?" asked Anakin. "We were married only yesterday. This ride isn't over yet."

"And when will it be?" asked Padmé. "After I've secured your children in the Jedi Order?"

"No."

"Then when?"

"Soon," he promised, and the look in his eyes told her not to argue with him; that he would take care of her no matter what. "You have to trust me."

"Anakin… I'm miserable." And the sadness that crossed her face, caught only by her husband, said more than words. He said nothing, but glanced at Bail.

"I'll need to contact the Senate and Master Yoda," he said. "They'll wonder what we're doing."

"Already done," answered Bail with a nod of his head. "The Chancellor and Master Windu are livid, but Master Yoda seems to know what you're up to. Can they necessarily blame you?"

"No, they can't," said Anakin. "I appreciate it."

Bail nodded again, then they both turned to Padmé, who was looking at her plate with a look of disgust; there was to be no more ingesting of food tonight, as far as she was concerned. Anakin was the first to speak.

"We're going to stay here for a few days," he said. "Run interviews and everything. Rest as best we can. I've gone through the list and limited the stops that aren't as essential. Aquaris, for example. After here, we'll do Mandalore and Corellia, and finish off with Naboo before returning to Coruscant. Each stay will be at least three days long, enough time for the media to get all the juicy stuff they want, and we don't have to do a whole lot. Besides, your ship… I'd rather not travel all over this galaxy. It's not worth it."

"To the Chancellor it's worth it," contradicted Padmé, but she sounded tired.

"Yeah, well…" Anakin didn't want to say what he thought of Palpatine. He glanced at Bail, who gave him a sickened look that almost made him laugh. He looked back at Padmé. "What do you think?"

"It's… better," she answered. "But the paparazzi. They'll be everywhere."

"We can't avoid that," said Anakin, then glanced back at Bail. "Yet."

"How long do I have to smile for the cameras?" sighed Padmé.

"Why, forever!" grinned Anakin. "You have a lovely smile."

"You know what I mean," she said with a deadly glare, but there was a sparkle in her eyes.

"Just these two weeks, then you can do whatever you want. Kill me if you want to."

"If it would make you happy, dear."

Anakin sent her a look, then Bail pushed back his chair and stood up.

"If you two are done, I think we should spend the rest of this evening in the sitting room by the fire," he said as Anakin and Padmé stood to join him.

"I think I will retire," answered Padmé quietly. "I need decompression time."

"I'm with her," said Anakin. "Thanks for the invite, though."

"Go on ahead, Padmé," said Bail, turning to her. "I'll send Anakin after you in a few minutes." She inclined her head as Bail turned back to Anakin. "My man, I think you and I need to share a cigar tonight. Just for a moment."

Anakin shrugged and followed him to the sitting room, where Bail quickly closed the doors, drew the curtains and procured one of his best cigars, which he lit and puffed on until it was going strong. He handed it to Anakin, who took a long draught and slowly let it out, watching the smoke float away towards the ceiling.

"Anakin, I don't mean to put you on the spot, but…" Bail leaned forward in his chair, looking around, even though there was no one else in the room. "I have to ask. Have you, uh… you know… what they wanted you to, uh… you know…"

"Had sex?"

He leaned back again. "You said it, not me."

Anakin shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not? It's in the contract."

"Not in any contract they let me see."

"But that was the whole point. To get little Force-sensitive babies out of the deal. How else will you do it?"

"I don't know, I guess we'll figure something out." His eyes were joking, though, and Bail could tell.

"So when will you do it? Within a few weeks, you're going to get pressure from both fronts. They're going to expect an announcement almost immediately."

"We're not announcing anything until we announce it on our own," he answered. "And that will be, well, when we want to."

"So what are you waiting for?"

Anakin took another long draught on the cigar, and didn't respond until the smoke had disappeared skyward.

"The right moment. I need to be a husband for a while. Take care of the most important thing right now. Not me, not the Republic, or the Council, and certainly not kids." He paused and shook his head. "You'd think their request would be easy. Just have sex. Get pregnant. Have kids. Simple. No… that's not life, that's breeding."

"And that's exactly what _they_ think."

"Well, it's not right. Padmé is a woman, being used as a prostitute."

"A bit harsh."

"But it's true. Think about it. What they're asking me to do is _rape_."

"So you won't do it?"

"I'll do it, but on Padmé's time."

There was a moment of silence, in which Bail looked at the ceiling as it swirled slowly with smoke from the cigar.

"You're a good man, Skywalker. Every man could learn something from you, that's for sure. And any woman would be glad to be married to someone like you." He paused. "But you're fighting against something that has the power to destroy you."

"Why would they? I'm this alleged 'Chosen One'. The most Force-sensitive being in the galaxy. They can't kill me. They would be shooting themselves in the foot. And…" He put up a hand to stop any forthcoming comments. "I'm not being arrogant when I say that. I know what they see me as, and I can't change that."

"You're fighting alone against an army."

"I'm not alone."

"Fighting fire with fire?"

"In a way."

"Well, just remember one thing. You are a man, you have a freedom to speak, to do or not to do, to fight or not to fight. No one can tell you what to do. _No one_. Not even the Chancellor. That's just a right, one that _everyone_ has. And by harnessing this freedom, you're going to gain enemies. Lots of them. With guns and bombs. And just as many allies, with just as many weapons. You have to decide what you're fighting for, and hold onto that."

"I know what I'm fighting for."

"Then never forget. Never let them take that away."

"And they _would_ take it away."

"They could. If you don't do what they're having you do."

There was a moment of silence which enveloped them, then Bail spoke again, with a smile.

"She loves you, Anakin. You did that. Not the Senate or the Order. _You._ And she'll learn to trust you. Just take care of her."

"Everyday," whispered Anakin, more to himself than Bail. "Forever. I would die for her."

"Then die for her."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

The rooms Bail had set aside for Anakin and Padmé were specially picked for their situation. It was on the fourth level of the palace, in the main body, flanked on both sides by guarded wings. The ceiling was high, easily three times taller than a normal room, and there were floor to ceiling windows, covered in flowing drapes. A special light shield could be activated to distort the intensity of the sun at certain times of the day… or ward off the paparazzi. How they could have gotten a view into those rooms was beyond Anakin's imagination.

The main room had a massive bed against one wall, set on a dais, with a high canopy over it, and thin drapes surrounding. Directly opposite of the bed was a large fireplace, and against the windows on the far wall were arm chairs and a loveseat. A pair of double doors led out onto the vast balcony with a view of the far mountains and the palace gardens. Beside the fireplace was a door which led into the fresher, and another which led into a massive closet. It was a comfortable room, and lavish, and to Anakin, completely impractical.

"What the heck…" he grumbled under his breath, looking up at the high ceilings and grimacing at the size of the bed. He shook his head and looked around. "Padmé?"

"I'm in here," came the relaxed reply from the fresher, and Anakin could hear water running. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't rush to see her. Instead, he pulled off his outer clothing and boots, retaining his pants and undershirt. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, then went to the fresher door, knocking gently.

"You can come in," said Padmé from within, and Anakin carefully opened the door, scanning his eyes over the room as he did so. There was a long counter with two sinks, and under a large window, on another dais, was the turbo tub, a large tub with dozens of jets and hot water. He found Padmé there, fully submerged, her head resting back on an ornate pillow, specially designed for that very purpose.

"Any difference, My Lady?" teased Anakin, grinning as he saw Padmé's fully relaxed face almost nod off.

"Worlds," was the blunt reply. "I want one of these."

"Where would you put it?"

"I don't know. I guess you'll have to buy me a house for it."

"Whatever makes you happy, My Lady," answered Anakin, suddenly feeling the weight of that day come on him, almost like a bag of bricks set on his shoulders. He sighed and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest, his face setting grimly as he found himself looking aimlessly at the ground.

"Where have you gone off to?" The question surprised him. Or rather, the tone. Padmé had been stressed and overwhelmed for so long that Anakin had forgotten how gentle and kind she was. That was her personality, except when she had the paparazzi on her tail.

"Nowhere," answered Anakin with a thin smile. "I'm fine."

"Anakin…" Padmé gave him 'the look' and he pointedly ignored her. After a moment: "I won't ask you to join me, but you can sit beside me. And can you bring me some more of my bubble bath. It's on the counter. Breha gave it to me." Breha being the wife of Senator Organa, and the Queen of Alderaan.

Anakin brought her the bottle, then sat down on the dais beside the tub, leaning his head back against it while Padmé poured the bubbles in and watched them foam up. He gazed at the ceiling, glad that the light in the fresher wasn't bright; he may have reached his annoyance level if they were. He took a deep breath to relieve some of the tension in his muscles, and as he released it, he could suddenly hear a lot clearer than before. Or at least he could hear Padmé playing with her bubbles behind him.

"I used to have a ducky," she said then, as if to herself. "It was yellow. And it floated. I miss that ducky."

"I'll get you a ducky," smiled Anakin, closing his eyes and taking another deep breath. "We'll have a big fleet of ducks, one for each of our kids."

"That would be wonderful," sighed Padmé, but when Anakin glanced at her, he saw her smiling softly to herself, her eyes closed as she leaned back in the tub. They sat in silence for a while, Anakin slipping into solo meditation, suddenly realizing how well he could meditate when Padmé was so close to his consciousness. She provided a peace and restfulness that he rarely managed on his own. He could hear the water moving gently over her skin as she ran her fingers through the bubbles, and it calmed him.

"Anakin?"

"Mmm?"

"What are we going to do?" The tone brought him out of his meditation and back to the moment. There was worry there, and nervousness, and everything else he'd sensed from Padmé over the past day they'd been married. There was a broken heart behind that voice, and a soul that was on the verge of giving up.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice strangely quiet as he looked across the room and refused to turn and face her.

"I'm not ready to be a mother…" It was a whisper, a horribly painful whisper, and Anakin knew Padmé couldn't make herself speak any louder. Defeat was not in her nature, and certainly not in her vocabulary.

"No one's asking you to be," he answered.

"The Senate is. And the Order. And the universe. They expect it. They believe I'll give it to them."

"They don't know what they believe." The tone in Anakin's voice would have struck fear into anyone, but Padmé found it strangely comforting. "You'll do what you do when you want to, not when they tell you."

"I want to," she whispered. "I want to be a mother. I just know… that I can't be. Not until…" She paused and looked at Anakin, who was staring across the room with guys that burned with a hidden fire. Silence reigned for a moment, and then Padmé spoke again.

"Anakin, why did you kiss me?"

He shrugged, then took a deep breath and leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he did so.

"Anakin…" It was 'that' voice again.

"I'm not responsible for my actions."

"Ah, like you weren't responsible for stealing my ship."

"That was a decade ago. And it was a dare."

"Ah…" Padmé smiled softly, then reached out and softly stroked Anakin's hair out of his face, noting how his features relaxed when she did so. "I like your hair better this way."

"Anything for you, dear," he grinned, his eyes still closed. Padmé pulled herself away from her lounging position and wrapped her wet, bubble-covered arms around Anakin's neck, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He grinned wider, then gently pried her arms free, grimacing at the water running down his neck.

"I'm going to meditate," he said, pushing himself to his feet to get away from her. Padmé watched him go, smiling to herself, then returned to her previous position, content, for a moment, with the way things were.

Anakin stretched his consciousness out to lightly brush against Padmé's, just to make sure she hadn't been too badly offended by his sudden departure. He couldn't deny that his wife had turned him on, and would continue to do so, he was most certain, every day for the rest of their married life, which, he hoped, was a very long time. Even he, Anakin Skywalker, couldn't deny the chemistry between them.

_I'm just one big sucker,_ he thought to himself as he evacuated from his shirt and left it laying on the bed. Out on the balcony, he found the air pleasantly warm, the stars bright above, and no sign of their stalkers far below. Well, except for their land cruisers, which were parked all over the property. Bail's guards were working overtime.

It did not take long for Anakin to return to his point of meditation. Padmé was still close at hand, which helped him, and the warmth of the air, and the freshness of Alderaan. Certainly not like Coruscant, which was covered in smog and smoke. Out here, he could breath. He felt alive. He felt human.

For a long time, Anakin remained in his state of meditation, breathing in the air and refreshing his limbs. He reached a point, as he always did, where he could feel every sensation of his body, and strange though it was, it told him he was doing something right. He could have pulled out of his meditation at that point, but he decided to remain where he was, hands behind his back, legs slightly apart, eyes closed and chin raised so he could breath fully. It was such an amazing feeling after the stress of the past two days.

Anakin was only slightly aware when Padmé at last pulled herself from the tub and dried off, slipping into her nightgown and slippers behind the dressing screen in the corner of the room. She gathered Anakin's clothes and folded them on a chair, then sat on the end of the bed and dried her hair with a towel, loosely braiding it as she watched her husband out on the balcony. Anakin could feel her eyes on him, but so deep was he in meditation that it was only a flicker in the back of his mind, but one which made him smile.

And then arms were gently encircling his waist and a head was leaning against his bare back, and Anakin was coming back into awareness. He had felt her approach, and smiled to himself as he took several measured breaths and opened his eyes.

"Can we just live here?" whispered Padmé from behind him, and Anakin pulled out of her arms so they could trade places. He didn't feel awkward at all wrapping his strong arms around her and holding her tight with her back to him. She stared up at the stars overhead, and when he looked down at her, he could see them reflected in her eyes.

"Maybe," he whispered back, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on her shoulder. "Someday."

"Someday," she breathed, leaning her head back against him, her eyes never leaving the stars in the night sky. "Someday soon? Or… not so soon?"

"Would you just trust me?" he laughed then, his laugh soft and kind, with a firm undertone. "Just trust me…"

He gently kissed her neck, then the top of her ear, and when she closed her eyes and leaned back into him, he knew he should stop or he would loose control. The fear she felt was still there; she still wasn't ready. So he pulled away and took her hand, wrapping the other around her waist as they went back indoors.

"Exhausted, My Lady?" he asked with a smile, closing the doors behind them. Padmé grinned devilishly.

"Last one in has to bring breakfast in bed tomorrow morning!"

"No fair! Your side is closer!" And so Padmé was in bed before Anakin was, and he didn't care in the least. He planted a tender kiss on her lips, then pulled the blankets up and let her snuggle up close to him. In that moment, he knew he could get used to this.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Note from the Author**_

I had a pretty massive bit of inspiration today, but only half of the end result was something to be proud of. I'm sorry, but this chapter really sucks. To all of you who will get to the end of this chapter and find themselves in need of a strong drink: I've learned my lesson. No more writing marathons, no matter how strong the inspiration is. **For all of you new writer's out there:** writing when the inspiration is fresh can be awesome, but after about 2500 words, it starts to sound horrible. So just stop and don't keep writing! At least I can promise better chapters in the future.

**AND**... the story is going to be picking up pace after this. I wanted to give some time to get Anakin and Padme's emotions written out clearly, and to start their relationship on a good track. And now thatall of that is done, I think we can proceed! Yippee!

As always, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it really means a lot. I'm done writing boring stuff, so let's get on to the more interesting parts of this story!

And I want to thank froovygirl for suggesting a "Padme's point of view" chapter. I think my attempt was an utter fail, but I'm certain there will be a lot of chapters from Padme's point of view in the future. There are just some things in a woman's life that, from a guy's point of view, are the craziest thing! So expect some of those too!

Once again, thank you for your patience, and things are going to get better!

{trinity6diversia}

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

When Padmé awoke, the first thing she noticed was Anakin's absence. She reached over and felt for him on the other side of the bed, but the blankets were cold. Opening her eyes, she squinted in the bright daylight. It took her a few moments to adjust, and when she did, she noticed that Anakin's cloak was resting over the chair, but his clothes were nowhere to be found. She made a mental note to find him some new clothes when the situation allowed. The Order provided well, but even the better quality Jedi tunics were not suitable for a newly married man on his honeymoon.

Padmé yawned, then stretched, then yawned again, and as she did so, she turned towards the other side of the room, and the massive windows overlooking the mountains. The sunlight streamed through, almost blinding, but refreshing all the same. Anakin must have opened the door, because a chilly breeze came through, filling the room with the lovely scent of evergreen and roses. Padmé took a deep breath, smiling as she closed her eyes.

The door opened then, and Anakin came through, carrying a tray piled high with a delectable fare, including hot cakes soaked with butter, and tea. For himself, there was a massive mug of caf, just the way he liked it.

"Good morning!" he said when he saw Padmé. She sat up against the pillows as he lay the tray in the middle of the bed. "Just like I promised. The best food I could wrestle from the kitchen staff."

"I hope you didn't terrify them," smiled Padmé as she reached for a biscuit.

"Who, me?" He shrugged with a grin. "Only a little."

Anakin sat down at the end of the bed, facing Padmé, so they could enjoy their breakfast in a suitable fashion. They barely spoke the entire time, Padmé enjoying the view of the mountains and Anakin reading up on the latest pod-racing scores from Tatooine. He barely remembered his time living there, but the thrill of the races was most certainly still in him.

"Anakin?"

"Mmm?" He didn't look up from the holopad.

"Did you have any nicknames when you were younger?"

"Why do you ask?" Still absorbed in the news articles.

"Well, if there were anything you'd rather me call you…"

"My mother called me Annie, but… I can't say I'd go for that now."

"I don't think I could ever call you that."

"Then don't. And we'll both be happy." He looked up then, and shot her a quick smile with a twinkle in his eyes.

Silence reigned again as Padmé looked out the windows and sipped her tea. The meal had been nice and filling, and the fresh breeze through the door made her remember her days living on Naboo. It made her hopeful, too. Hopeful that maybe her future would not be passed on Coruscant under the watchful eye of the paparazzi and the Senate. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that she had to get away from there.

"What do they have planned for us today?" she asked finally, breaking the silence as Anakin set down his holopad. She did not look at him.

"Interviews with the _Galactic Intercessor_ this morning," he answered. "You have an hour. I can send one of Breha's handmaids to help you get ready. Then we have the _Underworld Tribune_ right after that, and break for lunch. They've requested 'viewing' time after that. At least no more interviews."

"Well, we can be thankful for that," smiled Padmé. "And yes, have one of Breha's handmaids come and see me."

"As you wish, My Lady," smiled Anakin in return, then lifted the empty tray of food and set it on a side table where a maid would come to remove it. He grabbed his cloak and slipped into it, then roughly combed through his hair with his fingers. Padmé pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed, coming around to join him.

"I've got to meet with Bail this morning, so I'll meet you before the interview, in the private lobby." Padmé reached up to straighten his tunic while he spoke.

"Maybe ask Bail if he has something else you can wear," suggested Padmé then. "You look too much like a Jedi. Quite dreary and depressing."

"Dress to match," teased Anakin, then quickly leaned down to kiss her cheek. "I'm kidding. I'll ask him."

And then he was gone.

As soon as Anakin was gone, Padmé sank down on the end of the bed, her eyes wandering back to the open windows and the mountains beyond. Without knowing what she was doing, she found herself thinking back to all the years she had known Anakin, all the way back to when they first met. That day was so vivid in her mind.

_Master Qui Gon had asked her to keep an eye on Anakin. Under the guise of a handmaiden at the time, she couldn't refuse. Nor did she want to. Keeping a nine year old out of trouble was easier than listening to diplomats. That was before the war; before her world became a whirlwind of politics and press reviews. Back when it was simpler._

_Padmé had never wanted to be Queen. When she was twelve, her high study scores had gotten her a place on the honor roll, and from there, she made it to the regional testing. She made it through every round of elimination, breezing through them with ease and grace. It did not come as a surprise when she made it to the top and was granted an audience with the Queen of Naboo. There were two dozen finalists, boys and girls alike, but the Queen loved Padmé the most, and so asked if she would become the Princess of Theed and take on the training to become Queen._

_Padmé never knew why she agreed. Perhaps because it was an exciting adventure, and for a twelve year old girl with a simple way of life, that seemed like an interesting option. Or perhaps because she knew she had a lot to offer. Ask anyone, and they would have told you that young Padmé Naberrie was serious for her age, and would one day do great things with her life._

_For over a year, Padmé studied under the tutelage of the Queen, and just shy of her fourteenth birthday, the Queen officially passed the crown to her. The coronation took place after Padmé turned fourteen, and from then on, she was known as Padmé Amidala, officially taking the last name of the royal line. For many years she served as such, through war and peace, but mostly war._

_When Padmé was twenty-two, ten years after completing the regional testing and eight years after becoming Queen, she officially passed her crown on to another. She had served her two terms, and was done with commanding armies from a throne room. She wanted to command from the front lines, and when her newly appointed Queen asked her to become a Senator to voice Naboo's concerns on the Senate, Padmé had agreed._

_Padmé met Anakin again two years later, when she was twenty-four and he was nineteen. Chancellor Palpatine was intent on making a Clone Army for the Republic, and both Padmé and the Jedi Council were hesitant over such a move. War started, and the next four years, up until this moment, had passed with battle after battle, argument after argument, stress on top of stress. Anakin had served on the front lines of the war, and Padmé had served on the front lines of the political side of things. And now here they were, husband and wife, and war still raged._

_It's almost as if they purposefully wanted to get us out of the war,_ thought Padmé to herself, and that troubled her more than she cared to say.

Anakin had always been a gentleman, albeit rather arrogant and self-centered in his younger days. He _had_ stolen her ship back when she was Queen. That memory made her smile. She almost wished those days had never left. That they were both as young and innocent as they had been before.

She thought back to him now, and how long they had known each other. Fourteen years officially, but only four years on a personal level. You can't fight a war together without learning a little about each other as a result. And the past eight months of that had been a courtship, of sorts. A forced courtship, but intimate all the same.

Eight months ago, Chancellor Palpatine had informed Padmé that she was to marry Anakin Skywalker. A few days later, after returning from a mission, Anakin had been informed of that same thing, by the Council. They had met that very day. Anakin's exact words, if she remembered correctly, were: "Well, let's get it over with." That was back when he was worn out and battle sore. So they had met, begrudgingly, all the years they had been friends suddenly turned bitter.

Anakin had left soon after to clear up business with his troops. He was nothing if not thorough, and there was no way he was going to leave his troops in ill-form. It took him three of those eight months to transfer duties over to his next in line. During that time, he would sneak holograms to Padmé over the secure military-grade lines, and by doing this, they were able to clear up any harsh feelings between the two. They came to the realization, together, that they were not angry at each other, but at the Council and Senate for doing this. It was a good thing the lines were secure, too, for no one ever found the messages.

And then Anakin was back on Coruscant, and for the next five months, he and Padmé engaged in a much-televised courtship, resulting in a public engagement announcement after just two months, which sparked a flurry of pregnancy rumors. They insisted this was not the case, and Padmé even wore a tighter wedding dress to throw speculation of "hidden bumps". Still, the rumors circled, and Padmé knew the Council and Senate would be very much pleased to find them true.

Padmé knew how much the stress of this mission was getting to her. It was a lifestyle, one she was to accept or there would be consequences. It was like becoming Queen. Everyone else wanted it, but not her. She was too young to know any different though. And becoming a Senator. That had been her own decision, but she blamed it on a bought of independence that happens when you're about that age. But now, an adult, and you would think she'd have her own say. Apparently not. It was infuriating.

Anakin, however, had handled the entire situation rather well for being a man known for his stubbornness, arrogance and impatience.

_What is it about this man?_ The question puzzled Padmé. There _was_ something. She could feel it. Was it the way he looked at her? The way he treated her? The way he made her feel like an angel? What _was_ it?

_He… he loves me,_ thought Padmé suddenly, and the realization was so strong that she couldn't quite grasp it. She dared not voice her own feelings, but where her mind said nothing, her heart made up for it. She couldn't deny the fact that she was falling in love with him. That she always had, and every moment she spent with him only made it stronger. Every little thing he did that made her feel beautiful was one more reason why she loved him.

It helped, too, that they were both feeling like an old married couple. They argued like one, and if they would bring themselves to, Padmé was sure they would make up like one, too. She laughed softly at the idea, then suddenly stopped, stiffening as a strange consciousness brushed against her own. She knew it was Anakin without thinking.

A picture put itself in her mind, and Padmé cringed at the sight. An image of their children, boys and girls alike, miniature Anakin's, if not in physical appearance, at least in everything else. It was a sight, that was for sure. As if one Anakin wasn't enough to handle. Maybe he was…

_I'm mellowing,_ she heard him say in her mind, answering her question for her. _Hurry and get ready, we don't want to be late._ Then the consciousness left and she was alone with her thoughts once more. She laughed at their absurd form of communication.

And then Padmé realized that the handmaid was there, and was waiting for her. And their day had begun.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Note from the Author:_**

**Sorry for the short length of this chapter. I was going to continue, but each of the planets on their honeymoon tour is going to have something big go on, so they should all have their own chapters. I'm actually pretty stoked. Relaxing as Alderaan is, I'm ready to get on to some more interesting places!**

**{trinity6diversia}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

"_Senator Amidala! How will your marriage affect your role in the Senate?"_

"_Master Skywalker! Will you be returning to military duty any time soon?"_

"_What news is there on the rumored pregnancy?"_

"_Senator! Should you be traveling in these early stages of pregnancy?"_

"_Master Jedi! What caused you to make adjustments to your honeymoon locations?"_

As the questions continued, Anakin reached for Padmé's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She returned the gesture with a smile, to which the paparazzi rushed to photograph. Within half an hour, the pictures of the happy newlyweds smiling adoringly at each other would be on every holonet across Coruscant. Some who saw them would be happy. Most would not. The little girls would screech and point at the screens, dreams of being a real princess running through their innocent minds. Their fathers would grimace in disgust, the only thing they could accept being how Anakin Skywalker was not man enough to stop this.

The Hero with no Fear… had been whipped down to nothing, by _fear_.

It was like Bail had said. The people would love Anakin more if he fought against tyranny, if he exercised his right to freedom. But right now, they just couldn't. They couldn't love a man who stood by and did _nothing_.

_Yet_, thought Anakin. _I haven't done anything… yet._

And still he smiled, and waved, and leaned down to kiss Padmé on the cheek, and did everything they told him to. Everything he was expected to do. He was playing right into their little game, and he knew it. But it wasn't time to fight. Not yet.

The interviews went perfectly. Anakin and Padmé could have been actors, paid to portray people other than themselves. They smiled, lied, dodged pregnancy rumors, knowing how much that would drive the Chancellor and his minions crazy. They smiled adoringly, and did every gesture that was appropriate for a couple under the public eye.

And when the cameras suddenly started translating their words into an unfamiliar military code halfway through the interview, no one knew. Anakin knew. It was all he could do not to break down laughing. And that half of their interview was lost. As were the cameramen, who were fired as soon as the glitch was discovered. On the cameras, no glitch was found, but the tapes were garbled beyond recognition. And a series of lines warped the image so much that the interview could not be televised. When Padmé discovered what happened soon after, she had no doubt in her mind who had caused it, but Anakin would only shrug and say nothing.

Every interview which passed on Alderaan was ruined in this way, except one. Anakin respected the _Interviewer_ because of their no funny business policy, and their good track record. So he did nothing to mutilate their tapes. A press interview towards the end of their stay was ruined by all media standards, although Anakin doubted an hour-long game of fetch with Thunder and Lady during the conference could have ruined the tapes all that much. It infuriated Master Windu, though, and Anakin received quite the lecture as a result.

After every interview was a short relaxation period, in which Anakin and Padmé could eat their midday meal and enjoy the quiet before they had to launch themselves back into the public eye. This short time usually involved Anakin catching up on the latest sports scores and updates from the military front, and Padmé reviewing diplomatic dealings from Coruscant. They had no time for anything else, and the more they both caught up on their respective non-marital duties, the more they would go about the rest of their day in that state of mind: that they were here to do one thing and one thing only.

Following the rest period, Anakin and Padmé launched into their "public viewing" mode, which required little more than public displays of affection on the parts of the newlyweds. The first day, they walked through the gardens with the dogs, holding hands and gazing at the flowers. The next day, they took a boat ride out on the lake, but within easy access of the paparazzo's fancy cameras. And the last day, they relaxed poolside, with Padmé purposefully arraying herself in a midriff exposing bikini top with a lace shroud tied at her waist to provide a small level of modesty to her attire. Anakin gave a desirable amount of attention to his gorgeous wife to please the cameras, but spent most of his time in forced meditation: one could not be in the presence of a bikini-clad Senator Amidala without loosing his mind, not even General Skywalker.

Padmé knew the effect she was having on her young husband, and it made her laugh. Just looking at him was enough to take the fear away and make her forget real life for a while. Then she would see the paparazzi, their cameras pointing at the newlyweds, and the moment would pass. She could feel the emotions return like a hurricane, and when she glanced at Anakin, the creases on his forehead told her that he could sense it.

"Anakin?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you know what I'm thinking?"

"No."

"Can you read my mind?"

"I would never read your mind."

"But… you can, though, can't you?"

"I could, but I won't."

"But you can tell what I'm feeling, right?"

"Generally speaking, yes. Your Force signature is more prominent than others. It's hard to ignore."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being an emotional wreck." Padmé shrugged and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her face. "You can't get away from my emotions whirling around in the Force."

"Nonsense. I enjoy them. They keep me focused. And… I have a distinct advantage over other guys. I actually know when I should avoid my wife."

Padmé turned on her side to face him.

"I don't think you'd ever want to leave, even if I were about to bite your head off."

"No, it's true. I wouldn't." He gave her a mischievous look and she laughed.

Early the next morning, in the dark before dawn, Anakin slipped out of bed, got dressed, then gently shook Padmé awake. He left her to finish packing the last few things, then went out to check on the _Whispering Winds_. Bail had cleared the paparazzi from around the palace, so slipping off planet would be easy. After Anakin had gotten R2 started on the pre-flight checklist, he returned to the palace, where he found Padmé cooking a small breakfast in the palace kitchen. It wouldn't do to wake the cook at that hour. Leaving her to finish up, he took their luggage and stowed it on the ship, then returned to the kitchen.

Bail was there by then, and the three ate the fare Padmé had mixed up. Bail devoured his food amid exclamations over Padmé's cooking, to which she blushed and tried to appear humble. Anakin took his time, reading over the astromech charts in preparation for their departure, and after Padmé had cleared the table, the three started on deeper discussions.

"You've made quite an impact in the media over the past few days," said Bail as he leaned back in his chair. "Chancellor Palpatine seems pleased, and that's all you have to worry about. If you keep this up, you'll avoid problems when you return to the Capital."

"You mean we have to keep doing this for another week and a half?" asked Padmé, a wave of exhaustion showing on her face before she skillfully hid it. Anakin saw. Anakin always saw.

"No, it will get better," assured Bail. "Security on Mandalore is at it's highest right now, so there will be less media attention on you. Corellia was already going to be an off-limits location for the paparazzi, by order of the Chancellor. You'll get a lot of attention on Naboo, obviously, but that's to be expected." He inclined his head towards Padmé, who took his meaning. You can't be Queen of a planet without having undo amounts of attention on said planet.

"We'll get through it," said Anakin, his voice calm as he met Padmé's eye. "We'll be old news before we make news."

"Well said, Skywalker," answered Bail, raising his hand to acknowledge the comment.

And with that, the three parted ways. Within minutes, the _Whispering Winds_ was lifting off her designated landing platform, silent as a breeze, just as her name suggested. And by the time the media hounds woke up, Anakin and Padmé were far from Alderaan.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Note from the**** Author**_

**PLEASE READ!  
><strong>

Yeah, I realize what I just did. Another boring chapter! I'm about to give up on making this whole "honeymoon" thing work. I need some help from my fans! I need you guys to tell me where to go from here. Ready? Okay!

In the comments, choose one of the following options for **_how you want the story to proceed_**:

**1)** Continue like we are. Go spend a couple chapters of peace and quiet (and possibly 'other things') on Corellia, then on to Naboo to meet the family and back to Coruscant.

**2)** Keep the rest of the honeymoon fairly vague, without any action, and get back to Coruscant quicker (some 'other things' possible once we're back on Coruscant.

**3)** Abandon the honeymoon altogether and get back to Coruscant like, now!

Things will speed up once they get back to Coruscant, that's for sure. Right now, I'm on scheduling constraints. I feel like the story can only go one way for me, because their life in the _story_ is scheduled, if that makes sense. Once I get past this block, then the only limit will be my imagination, and nothing else.

Answer in the comments how _you_ would like things to look, and we'll go from there. Thanks!

{trinity6diversia}

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

"Mandalorian Flight Command, this is General Anakin Skywalker, J-class Nubian. Requesting permission to land on platform Sixteen B. Access code, one-one-eight."

_Nice to see you again, General. Access granted. Proceed on your intended trajectory._

The friendliness of the Mandalore Flight Command was welcome, but left Anakin on edge. The shielding system around the capital opened to allow the _Whispering Winds_ access, and he piloted the vessel on the most direct route he could manage, keeping an eye out for any suspicious behavior. The whole thing was suspicious. Limited traffic, restricted airways, and few people in sight even then. It didn't seem right.

Their designated landing platform was a high level security platform near the palace, with numerous guard stations watching it. Anakin hovered longer than he normally would as he scanned over the platform with the Force, not caring in the least if his presence were felt. There were four landing guides already on the platform with their blinking lights to tell him where he was. And as the ship lowered to the platform, out from one of the access tunnels came Duchess Satine and her guards… and someone in brown robes who Anakin could feel before he could see him.

_Nice going, Obi-Wan_, he thought with a smirk, bringing the ship gently down. At least there weren't cameras and paparazzi. Yet.

Leaving R2 to secure the ship, Anakin straightened his tunics and brushed back his hair. He knew that Padmé liked it when he looked neat, so he made sure to do just that… before she got to him. Out in the main hold of the ship, he found her ready to greet the world. This time, she was wearing a yellow gown with a brocade underskirt and a light brown cape of sorts. It started at her waist and flowed in a short train behind her. She had her hair pulled up, again, and a ringlet of gold around it. She looked like a Princess. Anakin wasn't sure he liked that.

"Here, wear this," she said when Anakin came out, holding a dark blue cloak out for him. He had a whole wardrobe put together for him by Queen Breha before he left. He had to admit, Padmé and the Queen did a great job with making him look acceptable. And he liked not having to wear brown tones all the time. The clothes were similar to his Jedi attire, but better looking, different colors, and made him look more like a Prince, which helped, considering Padmé was still technically a Princess.

Today, however, Anakin had worn his Jedi clothes. They were better for travel, and any mechanical things he'd have to do in route. And now he slipped the cloak on his shoulders and secured it. At the least, it made him look slightly less rugged.

"There," whispered Padmé, reaching up to brush a wrinkle out of it. Anakin could tell that she was worried again.

"Don't worry," he said, trying to reassure her, even though he was anxious as well. "Obi-Wan is here. We should be fine."

Padmé nodded as the loading ramp went down, then arm in arm, they walked off the ship, Anakin's other hand on the blaster at his side. He didn't care if he _was_ a Jedi. Blasters were still quicker.

"Senator Amidala," acknowledged the Duchess when they had reached the end of the ramp. "It is so good to see you."

"Duchess Satine," acknowledged Padmé with a curtsy and a bow of her head. Anakin only inclined his head, then glanced at Obi-Wan with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Circumstances being what they are, perhaps we should retire indoors," said the Duchess, and the others couldn't agree more. The city was bleak and foreboding, and it left Anakin feeling uneasy. He could tell that Obi-Wan felt the same from the creased look on his face.

"Any new developments?" asked Anakin when the two men fell behind the others. He kept his voice down so no one else would hear.

"Threats, the occasional explosion, unsettlement," answered Obi-Wan. "No one has died yet, but its only a matter of time. I'm trying to convince Satine to leave, but she won't. I might advise you to do the same."

"And I might agree with you," answered Anakin. "But we're here to show the Republic that all is well. We can't leave due to war threats."

"You are a diversion," was Obi-Wan's grim reply. "You're here to be a cover up for the real problem. This universe is not at peace; it never has been, it never will be. Until things change. The people need to see that, but they won't just so long as you and Padmé smile at the cameras and act like everything is fine."

"Everything is _not_ fine," said Anakin, his anger rising. "Padmé and I are the most recent proof that there is a problem in this universe, and a problem in this system. When did the Republic fall this low."

"When it became a dictatorship," answered Obi-Wan grimly, and there was a sadness in his eyes that surprised Anakin.

"Who is to blame?" asked Anakin, but Obi-Wan would not say. Those were evil times, and treacherous words could prove the end.

As it were, there was little time to discuss anything. As soon as Anakin and Padmé had been ushered to their rooms, there was a great rush to prepare for dinner, and after a very hearty meal with the Duchess and Obi-Wan, the newlyweds had gone off to their first interview. It was harder this time, and there was no funny business. Anakin could feel every disturbance within Mandalore, and it left him tense and ill at ease. Thankfully, the cameras couldn't pick that up, but Padmé could, and halfway through the interview, she reached over to take his hand, stroking it gently throughout the rest of the interview. It helped to calm Anakin, at least on the outside.

After the interview, there was a short 'viewing' time, in which Anakin and Padmé simply had to stand, looking very much in love, while the cameras flashed at them. Anakin could only take a few minutes of this, because it left his internal 'battle' sensors on high alert. It was a relief when they could finally leave and return to their rooms.

"There is only one more interview," said Padmé as Anakin collapsed on the bed. "It is tomorrow morning, and after that, we can do anything we want. Not that we would want to do anything, especially outdoors."

"I'm not going to sleep tonight," answered Anakin.

"Nonsense," said Padmé. "You are going to sleep. I'll make you sleep."

"I'm a Jedi," he said, lifting himself up on his elbows to look at her. "I come to places like this to find traitors and kill assassin droids. Not smile for cameras and love on my wife. I don't think I've ever slept the last few times I've been on Mandalore."

"Well this time you will," said Padmé gently. "Obi-Wan is here, and plenty of guards. We are safe."

"For a while," sighed Anakin, rolling over on his stomach.

And then something very large, very furry, with very bad breathe and slobbery kisses jumped up on top of him, and he yelled as he received a hearty face washing. Thunder, of course, was used to this interaction, and tackled his master. Lady, who had originally been Duchess Satine's before she was given to Padmé, was off catching up with her old mistress.

There was a knock on the door while Anakin was being tackled, and between fits of laughter, Padmé went to open it. Obi-Wan was there, looking grim, as he had the entire time since they had arrived, and without hesitation, Thunder leapt off the bed and onto Obi-Wan. That was enough to get a smile on the old man's face.

"Do you have a minute, Anakin?" he asked as soon as Thunder had collapsed on the floor for his tummy rub.

"Of course, Obi-Wan," he answered.

"You can stay too, Padmé," said the Jedi Master with at glance in her direction. She went over to a chair near the window, followed by Thunder, then Obi-Wan, and finally, Anakin, who did not sit like the other two, but stood staring out the window, in conscious meditation.

"I have a fear about Chancellor Palpatine," said Obi-Wan then, always straight forward when it came to something that concerned a great many people. He was looking at Anakin. "We were talking about a dictatorship, and you asked who was to blame."

"You think it's the Chancellor?" asked Anakin, turning to glance at his Master, though his voice did not seem surprised. He was good at hiding his true emotions.

"I suspect it is," said Obi-Wan with a sigh. "Too much about the Chancellor is foggy. The Dark Side clouds him, conceals his true colors. I have no doubt that a part of him is dark, and his work and his motives have not been used for good."

"What makes you say that?" asked Padmé, but she was more concerned then defensive.

"He has stayed in office longer than he should," answered Obi-Wan. "And he has done so much during that time, some of it good when it happened, but not longer. We are in a war that we should never have been a part of. And this universe is being single-handedly controlled by one person, one very deadly, very dangerous person. If you were still Queen now, Padmé, you would have to answer to him."

"I… I had never thought of that," said Padmé in a soft voice.

"I fear his motives, and I fear what he has done to the two of you," said Obi-Wan. "You should never have been married, and there should be no obligation on either of you for what you are required to do. None of this should have taken place. At all."

"But were we to refuse, we would be called traitors," said Padmé, her eyebrows narrowed. "Anakin would have been pulled from the Order by either the Council or the Chancellor. And I would have been removed from the Senate. He could have destroyed us, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, I know," answered the Jedi Master.

"I never thought about that," said Anakin from the window, his voice soft and contemplative.

"The Chancellor has you in a headlock," said Obi-Wan. "All of us. Even the Council. Although the Council has done nothing to stop him. You have done what he has asked. You can do nothing more."

"No," whispered Padmé. "We haven't."

"You have married, as was his wish," answered Obi-Wan, understanding what she was saying in not so many words. "He has not yet commanded you to do anything more, although we all know what he was really getting at."

"No, Chancellor Palpatine said it to me directly," said Anakin then, coming over to stand behind Padmé. He rested a hand gently on her shoulder. "He has become bold, and hides very little from me. He told me what the assignment really was. He made sure not to give me a choice."

"And me," said Padmé. "I was not given a choice, either."

"Then we all have our hands tied," sighed Obi-Wan.

"And what are we to do about it?" asked Anakin.

"Whatever you can," said Obi-Wan. "Start by leaving Mandalore. Soon. Make for Corellia and spend a few days in peace, then Naboo. And when you return to Coruscant…" He turned to Anakin. "You must do everything in your power to protect her."

"I already am," he answered.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Note from the**_** Author**

**Thank you so much for helping me choose the course of these next few chapters! I was surprised; most of you wanted me to continue this "honeymoon tour". So I have! I would say this a better chapter, and very enlightening. And don't you fear, when the love-making finally comes along, it's going to be amazing, because it's going to have such an introduction! I have tried to write longer chapters, but alas, this is about as long as it gets.  
><strong>

**Thanks again for all of the reviews! They mean so much to me!**

**{trinity6diversia}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

True to his word, Anakin did not sleep that night. When Padmé awoke at dawn, the first thing she saw was his dark shape silhouetted against the brilliant colors of the sunrise, legs braced apart, hands clasped behind him; perfectly straight, perfectly calm, and yet so very menacing.

For some reason, the sight reassured her and made her feel safe.

_You must do everything in your power to protect her,_ Obi-Wan had said the night before. Padmé knew there was some hidden communication between the two, possibly including Bail Organa from Alderaan.

_I already am_, Anakin had said, and the sincerity in his voice, the deadly intent; Padmé had felt it. A warmth in her heart, slowly growing. She realized, with both anxiety and trepidation, that this might be what love felt like. It was intimidating.

Padmé slipped out of bed and hurried to the fresher, where she took a quick shower. She had been too exhausted from the travel and the threats within Mandalore to shower the night before. She did so now, which was a relief, and when she had returned to the main room, she quickly slipped behind the dressing screen. Anakin stood by the window now, a cup of caf in his hand, staring out at the city. He undoubtedly had noticed her wake up.

_He said he would never read my mind, _thought Padmé to herself. She did not see Anakin turn his head slightly at that moment. He hadn't read her mind, but he knew that she was thinking about him, and it fascinated him.

"Anakin, can you grab my underskirt laying on the suitcase, please?" she asked then, and she heard him walk across the room and set down his mug. A second later, her underskirt was thrown over the top of the dressing screen.

"I suppose you want me to look decent," grumbled Anakin on the other side, but he sounded more tired than annoyed.

"Just a little," she answered.

"Fine. I'm going to shower."

"Can you help me with my dress first?" asked Padmé, and it wasn't a command, as much as a timid request. If she were back on Coruscant, her handmaids would be helping her, but on their honeymoon tour, she only had Anakin.

"Now?" He sounded more than a little intrigued.

"Yes. I can't get it tight enough."

He came around the side of the dressing screen to find her trying to tighten the strings on her corset, grimacing as she did so. Gently, he moved her hands away and carefully pulled on the strings to tighten them. His Jedi training had done nothing to prepare him for this. And for the first time in his life, he was conscious of just how large his hands were compared to hers. And how unfit they were for a task such as this.

"Tell me when," he said softly, tightening the strings little bits at a time.

Padmé did not see the expression on Anakin's face, nor did she know what he was thinking. But she could guess. She could feel his fingers on her back, even through the thick fabric, and it sent shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her chest to feel for the heartbeat. It scared her how fast it was going.

"Stop," she whispered, and the hands did as she said. She could feel Anakin tying the strings to keep them in place, and then those hands slowly passed up her back, bringing the shivers with them. At the base of her spine, they gently gathered up her hair and pulled it away. There was a breath of cold air on her neck, and then the warmth of Anakin's breath as he leaned down to kiss it. Goosebumps covered her arms. For once, there was no fear. For once, all of this felt right. The world outside was not there.

"Don't stop," she breathed when Anakin pulled away. His hands ran lightly down her arms and took her hands into his own, wrapping her arms in front of her as he leaned in to kiss her neck once more.

"We have things to do," he whispered in her ear, then kissed her again. "People to see, places to go… all that jazz."

"No, let's not," she whispered, her eyes closed as she fell into his kisses.

"Padmé…" He pulled away and grabbed her dress from where it lay over the back of a chair. He helped her into it, then zipped up the back and kissed her neck once more. Padmé looked at him then, and saw an emotion she could not name in his eyes. Desire, but overall, love and care. She had never seen such things in the eyes of Anakin Skywalker, that day or any. Yet here it was.

"I'll be back," he grinned, then she heard him retire to the fresher. As soon as she heard the water turn on, she took a deep breath, almost as though she had been holding it. She hurried to put on her makeup and do up her hair. And after a few minutes, she heard Anakin's deep voice singing some purposeless song, and it put a smile on her face. She had never heard him sing; she had never known him to enjoy such happiness. He was a man of war; not a man of peace.

Anakin was dressed and ready before Padmé was. He pulled at the collar of his new tunic, not accustomed to the strange cuts of these new garments. Padmé came to him, then, and straightened the collar and the cape on his shoulders, not permitting herself to look into his eyes, for fear she would blush too fiercely to hide.

"I'll never understand these things you're dressing me in," he grumbled, shrugging to settle the sleeves of his tunic to where they needed to be.

"Nonsense," smiled Padmé. "You will." She looked at him then, and the expression on his face almost made her laugh. She reached up and kissed him lightly on his cheek. "Smile, Anakin."

"How can I not?" he asked then, trying hard not to, but smiling all the same. He offered his arm to Padmé and she took it, then the two of them left their rooms and headed towards the breakfast hall, where they would join the Duchess and Obi-Wan.

"Anakin, I don't want you to tell me what you're planning," said Padmé after several minutes of silence.

No questions were forthcoming from Anakin, only a simple, "I won't."

"I'm serious, Anakin," she said again, misunderstanding him, and stopped so quickly that he was forced to look into her eyes. "I don't want to know what you're up to."

"And you won't," he said again, his eyes speaking the truth. "You won't see it coming. That wasn't a promise either; that's just how it's going to be."

Padmé looked at him for a moment, wondering if her request was good or bad. She decided that she didn't want to know. There were some things better left to Jedi. And it was never a good idea to know of, or be a part of, any plan involving Anakin Skywalker as it's head. More than a helpless victim, that is.

"I trust you," said Padmé, though she eyed him suspiciously.

"Good," smiled Anakin, offering his arm to her again. "You never had a choice."

And by the time he had managed to wipe the smirk from his face, they were at breakfast hall, and Obi-Wan was escorting Padmé to her seat.

"It's the least I can do," he smiled, and Padmé was glad for it. Obi-Wan was like an older brother to her, willing to take out her husband if necessary, which was an intimidating thought. The husband part. And the fact that Obi-Wan was her husband's closest friend.

And so the meal went, and afterwards, they went on a walk along an open-air veranda. Duchess Satine had somehow convinced the reporters and paparazzi to allow them 'viewing time' instead of a full interview. It was better this way. Less of their day would be wasted as such, and they were closely guarded by a great many men with blasters.

"Do you still plan to leave today?" asked Obi-Wan as they walked, and Padmé glanced at Anakin.

"As soon as the Duchess gives us the go-ahead," he answered, and they all glanced at Satine.

"You may leave as soon as you see fit," she replied. "The sooner, the better."

"You need not worry about how the Senate and the Council will take this," assured Obi-Wan.

"When did I ever care about _that?"_ asked Anakin, and there was laughter behind his eyes. Obi-Wan just gave him a look.

"Don't do anything foolish, my dear friend," he said.

"Come on, Obi-Wan. It's _me!"_

"That's what I'm afraid of…"

Padmé shook her head with a soft smile, edging a bit closer to Anakin and holding a bit tighter onto his arm. He glanced down at her and their eyes met for a split second. There was concern and tenderness in his eyes, and in hers, none could really say.

"Where is Lux?" asked Padmé then, directing her question at the Duchess Satine.

"Haven't you heard?" answered the Duchess, and Padmé did not miss the glance Obi-Wan sent in Anakin's direction. "He was fighting undercover on the front lines. Neutral ground, for the benefit of Mandalore. Neither the Republic nor the Seperatists benefited from his work."

"Was he injured?" asked Padmé.

"Nothing too threatening," answered Satine.

"He is on Shili now," said Anakin without hesitation.

"He is married," added the Duchess.

"Married?" asked Padmé. "To whom?"

"The Queen," answered Anakin, and their eyes met again, his filled with the sadness of past memories, good and bad. "Ahsoka."

"Yes," said the Duchess. "Lux is the husband of Queen Ahsoka."

"Satine…" said Padmé softly.

"No, it does not bother me," she answered quickly. "He is happy. They both are. I can ask nothing more of either. Ahsoka is a strong woman, and a strong leader. And that she is a part of the Republic does not concern me, so long as Lux has found his peace."

"I will rip him apart if he hurts her," said Anakin. "Meant as no offense, Duchess."

"No offense taken," she answered. "I would expect nothing less from someone who cares for Ahsoka as you do. But she chose him, and that says something in and of itself."

"And I'm grateful for that," answered Anakin, but his eyes were sad, and Padmé could see it, though he tried hard to hide it. She knew that Ahsoka had been like the little sister Anakin never had, and seeing her leave the Order as she had, even to pursue something far larger than the life of a Jedi… it had torn him apart. Now, it seems, he was beginning to realize how she felt.

Padmé slipped her hand into Anakin's and entwined their fingers. Their eyes met once more, and in hers, she knew Anakin could feel sympathy and love. And she was not going to hide it. She _loved_ him. She _loved_ Anakin Skywalker, and nothing anyone said could change that.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Note from the**** Author**_

Okay, clearly, it's been a really long time since I've seen "The Clone Wars". That said... it was brought to my attention that Lux is not Satine's son, and yes, I knew that. Well, in some database in my mind I knew. For some reason, at 1 AM in the morning, facts don't line up like that. So yes, I made a mistake, and probably confused a lot of people. _And_... I have worked to remedy this mistake.

For all of you who have followed this story since the beginning, you know Anakin and Padme are visiting Onderon on their honeymoon. I have changed that to Mandalore. For some reason, I thought Onderon _was_ Mandalore. My bad! I've gone back through the other chapters and changed that little detail. So yes, Anakin and Padme are on _Mandalore_ now.

As for why Lux seems to be Satine's son? I've changed that in Chapter Eleven to not include the word 'son'. Basically, this chapter explains it really well. If anyone has any further questions, please let me know. And if you see any deviations from the real story and my story that don't seem like they were supposed to be there, let me know and I'll either make a change or let you know why I did what I did. Obviously, this is AU, so there are a lot of deviations between this and the real story. As far as people and relationships, though, everything should line up. So if Bail turns up married to Dorme... um, let me know, okay? :)

And as a little FYI... most of these chapters I write between 11PM and 2 AM, so there's a lot of late-night writing going on. I'm not saying my brain works really well at that hour. Anyway...

I hope you guys enjoy! I think the next chapter is going to be awesome. I've written half a sentence so far, and it's amazing! Keep the reviews coming! I read all of them!

**_And a quick little_**_ **note! **_If you guys love this version of Anakin, be sure to check out my other FF, **_For Every Moment Part 1: Descendin_****_g Darkness. _**I read back through it last night, and laughed more than I probably should have. I uploaded the entire thing in one go, over two years ago, so I'm pretty sure a lot of people didn't get notified. It's pretty hilarious, though, so be sure to check it out!

{trinity6diversia}

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<br>**

Lux Bonteri was born on Onderon, to Mina Bonteri, a member of the Separatist Senate. She was influential in her work, but after the Blockade of Naboo, during the early months of Padmé's reign as Queen, her beliefs were tested. She was not yet ready to side with the Republic, but neither was she ready to allow the Separatists totally control over the galaxy. It was a precarious time, and Mina gained both friends and enemies, from within her circles and without.

It was during a short time of peace, before the Clone Wars, that Mina Bonteri met Satine Kryze, the Duchess of Mandalore. Although many of the Mandalorian's favored the Republic at the start of the war, the government retained their neutral ground. As such, they remained out of the conflict, but embroiled in conflicts of their own, as both the Republic and the Separatist movements sought to turn them from within.

The start of the war brought an unexpected strength to Mina and Satine's friendship. They discovered their mutual need for allies outside of the system. And when Mina's husband, and the father of Lux, was killed in an assassination attempt, Lux was sent to live with Satine on Mandalore. Soon after, another assassination attempt took Mina's life, and in accordance to her will, Satine was named the caretaker of Lux until he came of age.

The politics of Onderon, without the neutral influence of Senator Bonteri, turned in favor of the Separatists, and as the war strengthened, Onderon became a major Separatist political staging ground. Even as this was happening, Mandalore was slowly turning in favor of the Republic, with Duchess Satine begrudgingly requesting the aid of the Jedi in affairs beyond her control. So was the political standing of Mandalore when Anakin and Padmé arrived there.

It did not help, though. Mandalore may have designated itself as a part of the Republic, but the unrest on the planet spoke otherwise. The Death Watch worked undercover for the Separatists, and were constantly in search of ways to throw down the Duchess Satine. They knew that, were she to fall, the politics of Mandalore would be easy to manipulate in favor of the Separatists movement.

The Death Watch had been in full swing by the time Anakin and Padmé arrived. Although Anakin had often journeyed to Mandalore with Obi-Wan on missions to protect the Duchess from the violence, those missions had been mere child play. The Death Watch had deadly intent this time. The war was not favoring the Separatists, and Mandalore was a key planet for weapons and supplies; a planet that could not remain in Republic hands.

It was this unsettled atmosphere that caused Anakin to plan an early departure. Mandalore was not a safe place to remain, especially for a prestigious Republic senator such as Padmé. If Obi-Wan had been able to convince Satine to leave, he would have gladly taken that opportunity. Alas, she was set in her ways, and both Obi-Wan and Anakin believed that would be her demise.

Anakin and Padmé left that morning, the morning after arriving; as soon as their designated 'viewing time' was complete. The tension within the city had grown to the point of Obi-Wan cringing from mental strain, and that was not encouraging. Anakin decided it was not worth waiting any longer. Something was going to explode, and he would rather not be there when it happened.

The goodbyes were quick and hurried as the bags were stowed on board the _Whispering Winds_. Thunder and Lady were tucked away on board to keep out from under foot. Guards watched the landing platform and the surrounding area with vigilant eyes. Nothing could slip past them so long as they were left standing. Obi-Wan and Anakin stepped aside to run through a few last minute things as Padmé gave Satine one last hug.

"I will tell Lux that you were here," promised the Duchess. "He looked up to you within the Senate. He is so much like his mother, only with a certainty she did not have. Perhaps someday he will return to Republic territory to help where his help is needed."

"Lux will know what his path is when his feet stumble upon it," assured Padmé.

And then the men were returning, and Obi-Wan stepped aside with the Duchess while Anakin and Padmé hurried across the landing platform towards the _Whispering Winds_.

What happened next, Padmé never did remember.

There was a shot fired, and then a crack, followed by a flash of light behind her eyes and a severe pain. Her vision flickered. The pain was that intense kind of pain that numbs all senses. Your mind stops working for a few seconds. It doesn't know whether the pain is something you can handle, or if it should knock you out until it goes away. Padmé felt herself falling, a painful yell hitting her ears. She did not realize until later that the voice was her own. Then blacking out for a second, then awake again, then black, and another yell, this time from Anakin, and a body over hers, and then a darkness to which there was no pain, or feeling, or emotion. Just… darkness.

To Anakin, that moment had been the war. And his reactions had been as they always were. Hand to his belt, blaster in hand, firing shots in the direction of the attack. He hit someone. He could feel it in the Force.

And then he could feel Padmé, and her pain, and that was an emotion he had _never_ had during the war. There had never been someone he cared about more than life itself, not even Ahsoka. There was to be no mercy this time. Right and wrong was as clear as black and white in that moment.

Running towards where Padmé had fallen, Anakin glanced back at Obi-Wan and Satine. They had ducked for cover when the shots were fired, and Obi-Wan had his lightsaber out, blocking more shots that were being fired their way. Thankfully, the ship was shielding Anakin and Padmé from all save the unfortunate assassin who lay dead in the guard tower above them. All the same, Anakin traded out the blaster for his lightsaber, igniting it as he hoisted Padmé over his shoulder. He blocked several shots, and in a break, ran up the boarding ramp of the ship.

R2 had the _Whispering Winds_ ready for takeoff when Anakin ran into the cockpit. He sent the droid out into the lounge of the ship to watch Padmé, then quickly ran through the flight initiation process. He saw Obi-Wan still on the landing platform, alone with his blue saber ignited in his hands, blocking shots fired at him and the ship. Satine had been whisked away to safety.

Anakin had no time to think. He turned the ship with no regard to safety procedures and expertly maneuvered it between buildings and out of the city. His moves were reckless, as was his path. Anyone would know Anakin Skywalker had been there. But he didn't care. He could feel Padmé in the Force, and their bond was stronger than ever. He could feel her pain, and her fear, and because she had no strength to hide it, he could also feel her need for him. She was crying out, desperate to know if he had left her. It was an emotionally traumatic few moments, which Anakin was not soon to forget.

Shields were on high as the _Whispering Winds_ blasted from Mandalore space. Anakin's hands flew over the dials. He almost set a route for Naboo, but at the last second, chose instead to head straight for Corellia. It was much closer, and their doctors were some of the best for general injuries. As Anakin slowly pulled back on the hyperspace lever, he noticed that his hands were shaking. He was too stunned to do anything but stare at that phenomenon for several tense seconds.

And then the ship was in hyperspace, and as it always did, the space bending around the ship helped to calm Anakin's mind. He took a shaky breath, forcing himself not to break down. It was a rare event that caused Anakin Skywalker to even _consider_ breaking down. He put his head in his hands and took several breaths, feeling the muscles unclench as he did so.

And then, just as soon as he had relaxed, he was racing from the cockpit to the lounge, ordering R2 back to the front to watch their progress.

Padmé opened her eyes just slightly at the sound of Anakin's voice. He was by her side in an instant, reaching down to gently touch her hand as he brushed her hair from her forehead. His eyes were deep pools of worry; a look Padmé had never associated with Anakin Skywalker. And she was suddenly conscious of their Force bond, and how he must have been feeling her every emotion.

Anakin reached down to pull away the torn cloth of Padmé's bodice, where the shot had entered. It was a grim sight. The corset had helped slow the laser, but it had not stopped it. Anakin knew the weapon used was cheaper by the mess the laser left behind. More expensive blasters left clean shots that basically electrocuted cells in the surrounding area, leaving the systems of the body to fail. The cheaper blasters had a smaller range of electrocution and were little worse than old fashioned bullets when it came to severing blood vessels. Padmé's clothes were soaked with blood from the injury.

"Anakin," she whispered, gripping his hand tightly against the pain. "Take care of me." Her voice was almost pleading, if it had not also been so weak.

"Always," he said, his jaw set, and his eyes deep with concern and anger. He grabbed part of her dress and pressed it against the injury to try and stop the bleeding. Padmé arched her back and clenched her teeth, tears smarting at the corners of her eyes, though she refused to cry out. It was no use. A few seconds of this and she did cry. It was the most heart-wrenching sound Anakin had heard in his life.

"It's okay," he whispered, scooping her up into his arms. He hurried her to the emergency medical bay of the ship and lay her on the table, then grabbed a sedative and slipped it under her skin. A moment later, she collapsed, limp and lifeless.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

When Padmé awoke, she found herself on a soft bed, covered in blankets, with her head supported by pillows. The first thing she noticed was how comfortable the bed was, and wondered if that was just an illusion from her injury, or if she had seriously been sleeping on the wrong beds all her life. The second thing she noticed was the lack of pain. Every emotion she had experienced in her time of unconsciousness had been fringed by pain, and yet here she was, almost as if nothing had happened.

She flinched, stretching her stiff fingers, and then moved her arms slightly. When she went to sit up a little higher on the pillows, the pain hit her, almost like a punch in the gut. She gasped, pressing a hand to her torso. The pain was only there, so all she could assume was that a single bullet had pierced her, not several. She fell back on the pillows, breathing hard at that small level of physical exertion.

The door opened and Padmé looked up just in time to see Anakin walk through, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his arms across his chest and surveyed her.

"Nice to see you awake," he said, the smirk still there.

"I was catching up on my sleep," answered Padmé, suddenly aware that the pain was easing again. "After the babies come, I won't have time for it. Might as well start early."

"You're expecting an army," grinned Anakin.

"Of your offspring, Master Skywalker, even one will be an army as far as I'm concerned."

"I think you're exaggerating."

"I think I'm right."

He did not respond, but sent her one of his more dashing grins and pulled a chair up beside the bed. Leaning his elbows on the bed, he looked at her and she at him. He said nothing, and after a while, Padmé began to wonder.

"What?" she asked softly. "What are you staring at?"

"The most beautiful woman in the galaxy," he said back, his voice almost a whisper.

"Stop it," she smiled. "Don't twist my stomach up any more than it already is."

"Am I?" he asked, his eyes wide with mock surprise. "You've never been romanced before?"

"Why should I?" she asked. "I'm a Senator. I've worked all my life. I've never had anyone, nor wanted anyone."

"Even now?" asked Anakin, standing up and leaning towards her.

"No," she whispered. "Now all I want... I don't know what… what do I want…"

Anakin's lips met hers before she could finish what she was saying, not that she was going to finish it anyway. She could no longer deny the chemistry that was there, and what it was doing to her. And in that kiss, unlike any before, she knew that she would always be cared for, always be loved, always be protected. This was not a mission; this was not a task that would someday be completed. This was life. This was her life. And she knew, in that one moment, that she would never trade it for anything.

And then Anakin pulled away, and those eyes were staring at her again, but instead of let them torture her, she let them love her, as they always had. He smiled, and she reached up to gently cup his cheek in her hand. It was them, just them. There was no war, there was no politics or confusion. There was only love. In that one single moment. And then…

"Anakin, I want one of these beds."

And he burst out laughing.

Padmé was released from her sickbed isolation later that day. She learned from Anakin that she had been unconscious for over a day. It was evening on the day after the attack that she had awaken. After the attack, Anakin had flown as fast as he could for Corellia, and they had gotten her into surgery to release the laser toxins from her body. They said she had been lucky, but it was unfortunate that the injury should happen to her abdomen. Arms and legs were trivial, but the head or the torso housed vital organs, and there might still be repercussions from the injury. Anakin seemed hopeful, but Padmé knew it was a cover-up.

Anakin had sent word back to Mandalore to inform them of Padmé's recovery. In that way, he learned that the Duchess Satine had suffered an injury herself, though not as threatening to her life. Obi-Wan had gone unscathed, but several guards had been killed. It was the last straw for the Duchess. Obi-Wan had not given her a chance. He had loaded her on a ship and was flying back to Coruscant to keep her under protective custody until the Death Watch could be stopped. From what Obi-Wan said, it had been a persistent verbal and physical battle the entire way back to the Jedi Temple.

The doctors ran tests and assessments on Padmé and released her a few hours after she awoke. The light of day was waning when Anakin helped her into a speeder and flew them to the expensive hotel set aside for their honeymoon. It was the more luxurious of places they had stayed, and heavily guarded by Corellian soldiers.

The rooms that had been made up for the newlyweds looked out upon the mountains of Corellia. From that vantage point, the rugged city could not be seen unless you looked down on it from the balcony. From that point, the sunrise could clearly be seen in the mornings, and in the evenings, the last light of day would bathe the mountains in golden light and slowly swallow them. The windows were many and extensive, although the ceiling was a fraction the height of those on Alderaan. The colors in the rooms were dark, with wooden accents and earth tones. Even the jet tub in the fresher was made of stone with uncut diamonds inset.

There was a bottle of wine cooling at the foot of the bed, and a tray of food waiting for them. A vase with wild roses from the mountain slopes was arranged on the dresser, and Padmé smiled when she saw them.

"I shouldn't," she said, pointing at the wine. The drugs they had given her for the pain would not mix well with the alcohol.

"Don't worry, I'll drink it," assured Anakin, then helped her take off the coat she had borrowed from him during the drive over. A look of exhaustion on her face, Padmé sat down heavily on the bed and sighed.

"I could pass out again," she said in a soft, tired voice.

"Please don't," said Anakin with a smile, but his eyes were concerned. He handed her a plate of food and told her to eat as much as she could, including the caramelized ginger. "It will help settle your stomach."

"Where would I be without you?" she smiled softly.

"Dead," he answered in a grim voice. "And you're not, so let's not even talk about it."

"Oh Anakin…" She lay back on the pillows and slowly ate what she could as she watched him drink up the bottle of wine. From a glass of course. That way he couldn't be called an alcoholic. You're only an alcoholic if you drink it straight from the bottle.

"It's pretty good," he admitted as he finished off the last glass. "For wine. I never liked wine."

"Who likes wine?" asked Padmé.

"Obi-Wan. I think Satine turned him."

"Oh?" laughed Padmé. "Where does this theory come from?"

"Desperate times lead a man to take desperate measures," answered Anakin with a smirk, coming over to sit next to her.

There was a pause in which Padmé did not respond, and when she did, her voice was soft and quiet.

"How did you react? When the Council told you to marry me…"

Anakin said nothing for a moment, gazing at the fire on the hearth across the room. When at last he did, there was an emotion Padmé could not name in his voice. Sadness. Or perhaps the remembering of things he was not willing to remember.

"I got drunk," he answered in a soft voice. "I went out and lost in on tequila. Almost lost more than that, but… Obi-Wan got to me first. I'm glad he did." He paused, then took a deep breath and downed the glass of wine in his hand.

"What did he say to you?" whispered Padmé, reaching up to stroke a hand down Anakin's back, feeling the rippling muscles beneath his shirt.

"He reminded me of you. And your happiness. And how I could give you everything you want. I know I can't make you happy. But I'll try."

Padmé pulled herself up and wrapped her arms gently around Anakin's chest, leaning her head on his back as she did so. She could feel his heart beating, and every breath he took, she could feel underneath his skin.

"You already have," she whispered, then pulled herself onto her knees and reached for his shirt. He did not stop her as she slowly pulled it over his head, revealing those rippling muscles in all of their perfect glory. She rubbed her thumb over the scars which covered his back from duels and firefights, then kissed them, and kissed his shoulder blades, and up his neck. Anakin turned to her then, and she cupped his face in her hands as their lips met.

Padmé could feel a strange longing, a strange desperation, rising within her as she pressed herself closer to Anakin's body. She needed him; she _yearned_ for him. She needed to feel him, all of him. For the first time in her life, she was ready for it. All of it. Whatever it might be, good or bad, she could take it. She wanted to.

The same need and desperation was rising within Anakin. He knew it was there; he couldn't really avoid it. The way Padmé clung to him, the way she pressed into his lips and held onto his body. It was starting to take him, and he wanted it to. He wanted to feel all of her, to know what she was like, to love and cherish her. He wanted to romance her, as he had never romanced anyone in his life. Love was not something he had experience in, but he knew what it was. It was what held the universe together, what made things work. He _knew_ what love was.

Gently, he reached out and touched Padmé's waist, pulling her towards him. The curves, the flawless body of this woman. He could marvel at it all he wanted to in any other situation, but now, in this moment, he could feel it beneath his fingertips. It was his if he wanted it. And he _wanted_ it. He wanted to know every part of it, to hold it, to claim it. This woman would make him come alive in ways he had never come alive before.

And then the pain. He could feel it within the Force. Padmé pulled away, biting her lip to avoid crying out as the pain in her abdomen returned. She only strengthened her grip on Anakin, though, and when he looked into her eyes, he could see her desperate need for him. In that moment, it didn't matter how much it would cause her pain. She needed it.

"No," he whispered. "Not now. You're not ready."

"Anakin, I need you," she breathed.

"I know," he whispered back. "But not now."

"No… Anakin…"

"Another time, my love. When you're stronger."

"No…"

"I promise." He reached down and tenderly kissed her, then pushed himself off the bed and went to the fresher. It was as much a need for him to calm down, as for him to get away from hurting her.

_I almost lost it,_ he thought to himself as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He leaned against the counter and took a shaky breath. He knew deep down that doing anything would only hurt her, and he couldn't do that. He wasn't willing to risk anything. _I can't loose it. I can't be the weak one._

And Padmé, where she was on the bed, for a moment felt only anger. And then she reached up and touched her injury, and knew that what he did was only done to take care of her. Still, the anger rose, and with it came all sorts of agreements. She wasn't good enough. She would never be good enough. She was weak. She wasn't supposed to show that sort of weakness, especially to a Jedi. She would not be the one to give in.

Anakin did not stay long in the fresher, and then he was back. He stoked the fire and put another log into the flames, then retired to the balcony for a time of meditation. Padmé prepared herself for bed, gritting her teeth against the pain, then slipped under the covers and closed her eyes, though sleep was far from sight. She could hear Anakin return a few minutes later, and felt him climb into bed beside her. He pulled the blankets a little higher on her shoulders, then an arm slipped around her waist under the covers, and without knowing what she was doing, she leaned back against him and allowed those arms to encircle her.

A moment later, she was asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Note from the**_** Author**

Sorry, guys! I just love leading you on! But don't worry, the wait will be over very soon, not only for you, my readers, but also for the paparazzi in this story. They will get their story! Well, no, not them, but you guys will!

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong>

The village in which Anakin and Padmé were staying was a smaller one, very primitive in their connection with the outside world. Although they had state of the art technology at their hands, the village was difficult to reach by land. The paparazzi, meanwhile, were not given access to any of the air space around the village, although Chancellor Palpatine had demanded they be let through. For this, Anakin was grateful. They were not aided in their attempts to reach the village, either, and as such, none dared traverse the wilds of Corellia to fulfill their task.

It was a very relaxing few days that Anakin and Padmé resided on Corellia. Anakin spent the majority of his time working on the _Whispering Winds_, tinkering with R2, playing with the dogs, or meditating; anything to keep him away from Padmé. He could feel her simmering in the Force, not necessarily in anger, but in fear. She was afraid of their duties, and the knowledge that she had had a moment of weakness that almost cost her… it was too much for her to take.

Padmé, meanwhile, spent her time resting, relaxing in the jet tub, and avoiding Anakin as much as she could. She kept herself busy reading the latest reports from the Senate and the front lines. As such, when a particularly infuriating news article came up on the last day of their stay, she saw it first. She was in the jet tub when she saw it, and was out in a second, stomping around the fresher in anger as she rushed to dry herself off and get dressed.

"Look at this!" she exclaimed, wrapping her wet hair in a towel as she came out of the fresher. Anakin was sprawled on the bed using Thunder as his pillow and Lady as his leg-rest. He did not seem surprised by his young wife's exclamation, and only raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement of her presence.

"They pulled the troops away from the front lines!" said Padmé, her eyes flashing as she handed Anakin the holopad. He took it and casually skimmed the article. "A full retreat from Boz Pity and Saleucami!"

"I see it," answered Anakin, setting down the holopad and closing his eyes.

"Oh, right, you see it, you just don't _care_."

"Padmé…"

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door to the fresher as she did so. For a minute, Anakin couldn't understand what was going on. He swore his wife was bipolar. That, or he had missed the Hormones 101 course at the Jedi Temple. Provided they _had_ one. He was on his feet in a second and leaning against the doorframe to the fresher.

"Padmé, come on, don't do this…"

"You don't even care!" She was crying. Anakin didn't need physical proof; he could feel it in the Force. He really didn't like this Force connection thing.

"I care, sweetheart, I do," he said in a calm voice. He wasn't lying. He was the Hero With No Fear, the one who had led the invasions of both Boz Pity and Saleucami, and to see them given up in favor of a Republic retreat infuriated him. His hard work, the lives of his men, the price they had paid for that ground… it was all for nothing. And just because the Chancellor woke up one morning and decided that his troops were better staged closer to home. It left Anakin livid, bitterly angry, a feeling he knew he should not have as a Jedi. And all he could do was hide it.

"Padmé, please come out…"

"No! Not until you prove to me that you're human!"

"And how would I do that?"

"Aren't you upset by this?!"

"Of course I am! But what do you want me to do? Go out and fight back that territory?"

"They should never have given it up to begin with!"

"Then you want me to go to the Chancellor and tell him to give it back to me?"

"I want you to stop this war!"

The war didn't stop, but Anakin sure did. He stood there against the doorframe in silence, unable to say anything. He had never seen Padmé so vulnerable before. She had always been the political leader, the Queen, the Senator, the person in charge. She had been against the war from the beginning; they both had. And when the fighting began, she did everything she could to fight for the end of it. Even if it meant going to the front lines herself, she would do it. She had sent flaming words towards the Chancellor and the Jedi Council, demanding an end to the fighting, and no one had listened. She had never shed a tear, but now she was. Either she was passionate for the fighting to end, or she was exhausted.

Anakin was certain it was the latter.

It didn't help either, to be a Queen from the age of thirteen, and then a Senator, and now the wife of a prestigious Jedi Knight, for the single purpose of supplying powerful offspring for the Jedi Order. Anakin had been given rest. He was forced on meditative retreats all the time. Padmé, on the other hand, was never given rest. Ever. Even now.

Not that she hadn't brought this upon herself. I mean, really. Checking the latest Senate reports while she was supposed to be on her honeymoon. A bomb just ready to go off. And sure enough, it had.

"Padmé, I can't stop the war," said Anakin softly through the door. "But as long as I'm here, the war will never get to you. Nothing will hurt you, I promise."

"What about Mandalore?" came the tearful response on the other side. Anakin did not answer.

"Padmé, please open the door."

"You can't protect me, Anakin." She did not say it angrily. She said it as one with no hope.

"Yes I can. Just let me in."

There was no response. And then the hopelessness became real, _very_ real, and a wave of fear passed through Anakin. It was going to kill her. The stress, the pain, it was going to take her out. One way or another, it would. And without thinking, Anakin used the Force to alter the lock on the door, breaking it open as he did so.

He grabbed Padmé, twisting her around to face him as he wrapped his strong arms around her. She was consumed by sobs, the kind that surely would kill a person if continued very long, and her hands were shaking. He did not let her go, but held her as tight as he could, stroking the wet hair away from her face.

And then Anakin picked up Padmé and carried her out of the fresher and back to the bedroom they shared, where Thunder and Lady watched him with questioning eyes. And sitting down in an armchair by the fire, Anakin held Padmé tightly in his arms, her head tucked up under his chin, and a shaking hand resting against his chest. Slowly, ever so slowly, he passed strength from himself through the Force to her, and slowly, ever so slowly, she closed her eyes, ceased her shaking, and slipped into a restful sleep. And still he sat there, holding her in his arms.

The fight was over.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Note from the Author**_

Woah, can I live on Naboo? I want to so bad! It's so pretty there! Oh, yeah, and enjoy this chapter :P

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

Anakin Skywalker opened his eyes.

Anakin Skywalker never _just_ opened his eyes.

Before the initial eye opening there was always a mighty stretch. Every joint in his body would systematically pop, releasing tension and relaxation agents into his brain. It was a nice way to start the day. And then he would yawn, possibly stretch again if it were necessary, and only _then_ would he open his eyes.

Not so this morning.

Not when his gorgeous wife was curled up in his arms.

There was no hope of her waking, either. She was dead in her dream world, and Anakin couldn't bring himself to stir. He wondered what she was dreaming of. Glancing down at her face, he saw the smallest of smiles, and wondered if she were dreaming of a world different than the one she lived in.

Their departure from Corellia the day before had gone smoothly, with no trouble from the paparazzi. No one dared get in the flight path of any ship piloted by Anakin Skywalker. He was liable to leave them a little something to remember him by. So they stayed away and allowed long range photos and videos do the talking for them. Of course, those photos were all over the Coruscant holonets by that afternoon, regardless of how _boring_ they might be.

Padmé had said very little that day, stuck away in her own world. Anakin could see a little girl fighting against herself, and he tried not to let it bother him. He took it as a positive sign, thinking instead of how this was bringing them together. She would never show her weakness to anyone else. Why, then, did she with him?

They landed on Naboo that evening, hounded as they knew they would be by the media and cameras. Padmé snapped out of her little world and returned to her 'usual' self; smiling at the cameras and clinging to Anakin as any new bride would. It was almost a relief for Anakin to be given a task such as that. An order was easier to follow than a life he was not accustomed to, and the Council had _ordered_ him to smile.

From Theed, the newlyweds made their way to the Lake Country, and Padmé's waterfront estate away from the cameras. There were harsh restrictions on that area. Anyone caught trespassing had a life in hell waiting for them. It was non-negotiable. Some would say that Padmé's estate had the strongest privacy laws on Naboo, if not in the entire sector. It was serious business. And the air space was similarly secured. No one_, _absolutely _no one_, could get in.

Anakin liked the estate. It was out in the wilds, so to speak, which he always appreciated. It was made on an island in the middle of the lake, with trees surrounding it, and beaches, and more islands further out that you could explore. But wild though it was, it also contained some of the more sophisticated technology. Technology that was fit for a Queen. Because on Naboo, Padmé was still a Queen, at least to her people.

It seemed to help Padmé to be back in the Lake Country. Her worries almost faded away, and she started smiling again. She was back to her old self, except for the ring on her left hand. There was no access to the outside world where they were; no holocasts, no Senate reports, no pressures. If anyone wanted to contact them, they would have to do so in person, or over a secured line, and very few had access to either technique. Padmé had left strict orders that no one was to bother them while they were tucked away in the Lake Country, not even her family, who had access. This, of course, fueled all sorts of rumors, but neither of them cared.

The dogs were given free roam of the island while Padmé put together dinner. Her family had brought in supplies to last them over for a few days. It helped Padmé to make the meals; it made her feel a little more like a wife and less like a prestigious Senator who just happened to be married to General Anakin Skywalker. It helped Anakin, too, when he walked into the kitchen, to see her putting care and attention into food for him. For a man with an enormous stomach, that touched him on a profound level.

Padmé chose to forgo the fine dining and resort to the kitchen balcony for their first meal on Naboo. There was a table and chairs there, meant for cocktail parties, with a view of the lake and the sunset. The dogs were able to eat with them, and the cool, refreshing breeze from the water took away the last reminders of the life they had left behind. Anakin forced himself not to think about their impending return to Coruscant, and instead enjoy the view he had in that moment: piles of delicious food and the beautiful woman who was his wife. The greatest two things in life.

And then dusk had fallen, and Anakin did the dishes while Padmé showered. He made a fire in the sitting room hearth, down the hall from the master bedroom, and then he and Padmé curled up to enjoy a quiet evening together. Padmé read a book while Anakin read up on the Council sessions, which he had downloaded before they'd left civilization. He did not get far before he dozed off, and the next thing he knew, Padmé was poking him and her eyes were laughing.

"It's bedtime," she whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

"I don't want to go to bed," he whined, but Padmé took his hands and pulled him to his feet without hesitation. He smirked and leaned down to kiss her tenderly on the lips. She didn't pull away as he thought she might, and for several seconds they were absorbed in each other with no awareness of anything else. Anakin pulled away first.

"Come on, little miss princess," he grinned, scooping her up into his arms, and they retired to the master bedroom. They were asleep almost instantly, Padmé curled up beside Anakin, suddenly aware that he released enough body heat to keep her comfortably warm in the cool of the Lake Country. And Anakin didn't even realize how lucky he was. Exhaustion does that to people.

So now here he was, the next morning, Padmé still in that same position. His arm was asleep, he knew it, and he couldn't stretch for fear he would wake her. The newly risen sun streaming in through the window was welcoming, though, and he couldn't think of a better time to meditate than this, first thing in the morning, right out of bed! So he did what every man fears; he moved his arm, carefully, out from under his sleeping wife, and quietly slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb her as much as possible. She stretched out, anyway, reaching for the spot he had vacated, noticing his absence even in her subconscious state.

Anakin went to the glass doors leading onto the balcony and stretched, as far as he could, until every joint in his body popped, dislocated, and then released back to normal. He sighed contentedly. _That_ was what he waited for, and what he _would_ wait for, every day of his married life. He glanced back at Padmé, still sleeping, and decided that it was worth it.

Padmé did not sleep much longer. It was either the cold, or Anakin's absence, though both were the direct result of the other. Either way, she soon awoke, and the first thing she saw was Anakin on the balcony, in that deep state of meditation which filled her with so much calm. She could almost feel his body relaxing in the crisp morning air, surrounded by the scent of pine trees.

_Good morning, my Anakin_, she whispered in her mind, and somehow, she could feel him smiling.

_Good morning, my love_, he answered, almost catching her unawares. But not quite.

And then Padmé pulled herself out of bed and grabbed her robe, wrapping it snuggly around her. Trying not to make a sound, she opened the balcony door and slipped out into the chilly morning air, the boards cold against her feet. She went to Anakin, where he stood in deep meditation, and reached up on tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. He returned the favor, hands reaching out to hold her waist, and a moment later, she pulled away and left him. He never opened his eyes, still absorbed in that subconscious state of mental healing, but he smiled.

From there, Padmé went to fix breakfast, still in her nightgown and robe. She didn't care. There was no one to see her, and Anakin didn't count. Unconsciously, she started running through the list of things she had to do that day. There wasn't much. She wouldn't clean their clothes until they were back on Coruscant; advanced though her lake estate was, it wasn't equipped with the type of cleaning services she would need for her professional garb. They would also need to visit her family. Not that they _needed_ to, but Padmé knew it would help her to return home for even a few hours. She never came to Naboo without seeing them.

Now, though, it was just her and Anakin. And the dogs. Who sat in the middle of the kitchen watching Padmé cook up a gourmet breakfast. Gourmet for a dog, at least. And they were wishing it was for them. It made Padmé laugh to watch them, and the next thing she knew, Anakin was striding into the kitchen, barefooted and shirtless. Food was forgotten when Thunder and Lady saw Anakin. _Nothing_ was better than a morning love-fest with their favorite person.

"Good morning, my love," said Anakin, releasing himself from the dogs so that he could lean down and kiss his wife's neck. She smiled, wondering how they had gotten to such a point as this. It didn't make any sense.

"Good morning, Anakin," she said back, trying to concentrate on the task at hand and not on his kisses tickling her neck.

"I was wondering…" His kisses were starting along the top of her shoulders now. "How interested are you…" He was starting to pull down her robe. "… in foregoing breakfast altogether…" Those kisses were starting to speak of some hidden motive, and Padmé knew it. "… maybe I could take a rain check…"

"Anakin…" She wasn't trying very hard to resist his hands as they wrapped around her. She did turn to him, though, which she quickly realized was a mistake. Those blue eyes were on her, and there was a hunger in them which she knew and secretly wanted. She fell into his kiss when he brought his lips to hers, then pulled away enough to let her practical side shine through. "Anakin, you can take a rain check on your breakfast… as long as you let me clean it up first."

And then Padmé was hurrying to put the food away so it wouldn't go to waste while Anakin went to feed the dogs. In a matter of minutes, the canines were fed and ready to explore their island, and Anakin was back in the kitchen to retrieve his wife. She had no more excuses. He scooped her, giggling, up into his arms, and made for the open air lounge, and the wide couch that was calling their name.

It was worth the wait.

All of it.

Every single minute of ecstasy, of passion, of fervent love-making… _so_ worth it.

There were few things in life that could make Anakin Skywalker loose all strength in his body, and this was one of those. It was a good feeling, to be physically wasted like this. It reminded him that he was human. This wondering if his heart rate would ever slow back down to normal. And then looking down at his beautiful wife at his side, smiling at him, knowing every bit of what he was feeling. She could feel it too. Maybe on a more extreme level. Or maybe just a different level.

"Worth it?" she whispered, tracing a hand up his bare chest.

"_So_ worth it…" he answered, stroking her back, feeling every curve of her body, even under the blankets. She was his. All his. Every inch of her. He didn't think he would ever get tired of looking at her, of taking her in. It couldn't be real, this serenity, this passion, this _woman_. Anakin Skywalker couldn't even score something this amazing. And yet… he had.

"The Council should be happy," said Padmé, laying her head down on Anakin's chest, the smile fading from her face.

"The Council doesn't exist here," answered Anakin, and his voice held an edge. "This isn't about them at all."

"No," whispered Padmé. "It's _all_ about them."

"Padmé, look at me." She did, and his eyes were solemn and hard. Nothing could get past them, and nothing, she knew, could get past him. "Our children… are _not_ going to the Order. I won't allow it. The Council will _never_ touch them. _Ever_."

"Oh come, Anakin," smiled Padmé, looking at him with sparkling eyes. "What if little Luke wants to become a Jedi? You wouldn't deny him, would you?"

Anakin raised an eyebrow. "Luke?"

"Well, if we have a boy, I want to call him Luke. What do you think?"

"I think…" Anakin brought Padmé's hand to his lips and kissed it. "I think it's perfect."

"Anakin? Can I confess something to you?"

"Fire away."

"Well, they said I couldn't be on birth control after we were married. Of course. They want little Skywalker babies as soon as possible. Well… I didn't listen to them."

"What else is new…" Not that this surprised Anakin.

"Needless to say…" continued Padmé. "There won't be little Anakin Skywalker's running around for a while. Not until we want them to."

Anakin smirked as he glanced down at his wife, for once feeling them on the same wave.

"We're both going to get a bit of hell, aren't we?" he asked, his eyes laughing at her.

"_So _worth it," laughed Padmé, cuddling up closer to him. There was a short moment of silence, and then Anakin spoke again, and his voice almost sounded sheepish.

"Padmé?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I'll take that rain check now. How about some breakfast?"

And Padmé burst out laughing.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Note from the**_** Author**

I want to send a HUGE shout-out to the awesome **DawnsJediWind **for collaborating with me on this chapter. I wasn't quite sure where to go from Chapter Fifteen, so she jumped right in and threw three awesome pages my way. I fixed them up, added a few additional paragraphs (and my personal flair) and voila! I think you guys are going to see a lot more from us two, because she definitely has some great ideas and is a great help out of the dreaded stage of writer's block. Go check out her profile!

As always, thank you SO SO SO much for all the comments! They mean so much to me! Please comment, like and follow this story, and if you have any ideas, throw them my way! Thanks and hugs!

**{trinity6diversia}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen<strong>

"I think we should pay a visit to my family," said Padmé, sitting down opposite Anakin at the breakfast table, or was it lunch? Anakin couldn't quite tell, being so distracted by his beautiful wife in front of him, his mind still full of the actives they had, until this moment, been attending quite dutifully to. The line between life and work was starting to blur just a bit.

"Anakin?"

Padmé's voice brought him back to reality. Anakin looked up at her, realizing that he'd been staring out the window, recalling those blissful memories of loving his amazing beloved. He might be a Jedi, but he was also human, and it wasn't very often that he allowed himself the luxury of those natural masculine emotions. A Jedi wasn't suppose to have feelings, but Anakin didn't care, especially now. If the Council wanted their plan to work, eventually he would have to act on his own. Besides, Anakin seriously doubted that none of the Jedi Order had come to a point in their lives when those safely concealed emotions didn't rise to the top. He just had to smile at this; there was one person he knew this had happened to. Obi-wan might be very good at faking his true feelings, but Anakin knew his little secret.

"Anakin?

Anakin found that he'd let his mind wonder again, and snapped back to the present.

"Err, sorry," he apologized. "Mind elsewhere."

"Yes, I could tell," said Padmé. She smiled at him, and so seductive was that smile, (_Without even knowing it; how does she do that?!)_, that Anakin was suddenly tempted to forego brunch altogether, and scoop her up to love on her for hours on end. He knew he could get away with it, too. There was no one here except the dogs and the natural wildlife of the island. But he restrained himself; they would have plenty of time for that later.

"You were saying something?" Anakin asked after a pause.

Padmé sighed contently. Anakin marveled at how much she had changed since only a few days before, when she was all weepy and hormonal and stressed.

"I was saying," started Padmé again. "I think we should visit my family. It's a beautiful day…" (_I wonder why?_ Anakin thought with a grin.) "… and my parents are at their villa retreat not far from hare."  
>"Well, seeing as we have nothing <em>better<em> planned…" He shot her his own seductive smirk, one which sent a bright flush of color into her cheeks before she turned away… "It sounds like a great idea."

Padmé was clearly pleased by her husband's willingness, and leaned over the table to kiss Anakin lightly on the cheek. She sat back down in her chair and asked, almost like an afterthought: "Have you ever met my parents, Anakin?"

"The wedding," he answered quickly.

"Well, of course the wedding."

"And…" Anakin ran a hand through his shaggy hair as a certain awkward meeting replayed itself in his mind:

_ It was the night before their wedding, and he had been in a foul mood all day. He couldn't bear the thought of being in the Jedi Temple any longer than necessary, and couldn't even bring himself to attend the Council meeting held that day. He knew that if he faced the Council, especially Master Windu, all hell would erupt. He might be the Chosen One, but there was only so far he could keep his emotions in check. Obi-Wan said he had more attention deficit problems because he _was_ the Chosen One. So, he had skipped the meeting._

_As a result, Obi-Wan had given him a rather lengthy lecture, and Anakin had tried to block out both his Master and the doom of the next day by getting as sloshed as possible, as quickly as possible. Unluckily for him, his midichlorian count prevented him from getting drunk on what he had, so he stepped it up to something stronger. There Anakin was, sitting on the floor of the pad he shared with Obi-Wan, numerous beer bottles strewn about him, a whiskey bottle in one hand and another, empty, beside him; Obi-wan talking him to madness, occasionally stopping to grab a bottle for himself. They both drove each other out of their minds. A fit pair, the two of them._

_And in the middle of it all, the door chime rang. It sounded like mating banthas, and Anakin, in his increasing state of drunkenness, burst into laughter at the image. Obi-wan staggered up to answer the door, trying to return to his usual glum self, and failing horribly._

_What made matters worse was that it was Ruwee, Padm__é's father, and Anakin's future father-in-law. He had brought Anakin's lightsaber, forgotten at the rehearsal dinner. Anakin stumbled up to retrieve it, embarrassed at the fact that this was not the first time he had lost his lightsaber; far from it. Then he had seen Ruwee, and one look at the man's face made this Jedi Knight sober up fairly quickly… well, as quickly as a half drunk Jedi Knight could. Ruwee was a very practical man, and Anakin knew he didn't put up with bullshit. Finding Ruwee Naberrie's hard gaze on him had been a little more than intimidating for the young Jedi Knight._

"Um…" Anakin started. "I met your father once, before the wedding." He took a deep breath, realizing he should probably tell Padmé just in case Ruwee decided to skewer him; this way she'd know why. "I was in a bad mood, Obi-wan wasn't helping, so I tried to get drunk. Then your father showed up with my lightsaber, and I don't think he liked what he saw. That part was a little fuzzy, to be honest."

Anakin could tell that Padmé was trying to hold back her mirth, and gave her a sheepish look, complete with puppy-dog eyes. It didn't help, because she burst out laughing; the one thing worse than a truly sorry Anakin Skywalker was a 'not really sorry, but I'm going to make you think I am' Anakin Skywalker.

"Oh, Anakin," she laughed, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders to whisper in his ear: "He's a great man. He's not going to skewer you."

"Hey, those were my words," he said back in that soft, 'for your ears only' voice. Her only reply was a soft kiss on the cheek. To be honest, neither of them knew quite what happened after that, only that it was perfect, and amazing, and neither would trade it for anything.

It wasn't very far to the retreat were Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie were staying. They had been stressed in their own way through the past few months, with wedding preparations and the like, and they weren't as young as they used to be. They more than deserved a little time away from their village and the chaos surrounding their family, and took it without shame. They welcomed Anakin and Padmé with open arms, cringed a little as the dogs leapt from the gondola skiff and ran for the beach, then ushered the newlyweds inside.

"We were so worried when the news came through from Mandalore," said Jobal as she brought food into the open air dining room, where the other three were already seated.

"How are you making it, punkin nickle?" said Ruwee, glancing down the table at his youngest daughter.

Padmé smiled reassuringly at them both. "I'm fine, really I am. It wasn't anything. I guess being married to a Jedi Knight has some benefits." She smiled down the table at Anakin, who hadn't heard anything she said, busy as he was smashing grapes into his plate with his fingers. Jobal bit back a grin while Ruwee's expression never changed.

"Whatever makes you look on the bright side of life," Ruwee said, still eyeing Anakin, who looked up quickly, somehow sensing that the discussion had turned towards him. Padmé quickly glanced away when his eyes met hers, for fear he would see the amusement. Anakin gave Ruwee a reassuring smile, knowing, without really knowing, what had been said.

"Padmé is in good hands. I won't let anything happen to her."

"Good," said Ruwee, and his expression still hadn't changed. "Or there'll be hell to pay." He lifted his knife this time, and a sinister smirk just barely crossed his face as he made it clear to Anakin what would be done if anything went amiss.

_Thank you for the encouragement,_ thought Anakin, meeting his father-in-law's gesture with a passive expression. He said nothing aloud, though, and it wouldn't have been wise anyway, for Jobal was dishing up the food even then. Though they had eaten not long before, Anakin didn't mind an extra meal or two. His appetite was more than ready, and his stomach was as big as a bantha's. He was content with the fare Jobal had put together for them, and listened in silence as Padmé caught up on all the news of her sister and her nieces, as well as the local politics.

"The Queen is very disturbed by these reports from the Chancellor," said Ruwee.

Anakin pricked up his ears then, though his eyes never left the new pile of grapes Jobal had put out just for him.

"Yes," said Padmé. "I am under the impression that he has deceived us all, or at least is in the process of doing so, even to the Jedi."

"I hope they're not in league with him," said Ruwee, and Anakin felt his eyes flicker disdainfully towards him. He looked up at Ruwee then, putting down his fork for the first time that meal. He knew without looking that Padmé was afraid he would do something stupid.

"I don't believe so," he said slowly. "Although… it's hard to tell sometimes, isn't it?"

"It is," his father-in-law agreed, the two sharing a masculine strength test with their eyes across the table. Ruwee sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. _As if he's daring me to do something,_ Anakin thought with contempt.

"I personally don't trust the Council's motives," he said slowly. "They're too close to the Senate and the Chancellor to be healthy. And I don't think they know what might happen in such close proximity."

"Perhaps," said Padmé, looking at Anakin with a bit of surprise, for she didn't realize he was so indebt with politics. And the rest of the meal was passed in silence, for no one knew quite what to think of the young Jedi Knight's words.

When the meal was over, Jobal cleared the table with Padmé's help. A silent agreement had been made, one way or another, that politics or matters of war would not be discussed. At least, around the woman. And with both of them busy cleaning the dishes and storing the leftover food in the kitchen, Ruwee leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat.

"You surprise me, Skywalker," he said.

"How so?" asked Anakin, a little taken back by this comment.

"One minute, you're like a child, and the next, well, you say something wise."

"You're only as wise as your years," answered Anakin with a shrug. "I don't know everything."

"That's why you surprise me, Skywalker," answered Ruwee with a small smile. "We hear about the Hero With No Fear. We see him on the holonet every day. And you know everything, you win every fight, you know every strategy. To meet this man and discover him to be so humble in real life is indeed something unexpected."

Anakin did not respond. He didn't know how to. He hadn't expected this level of praise from anyone, much less Ruwee Naberrie. He looked down, trying to figure out what he _could_ say, but Ruwee changed the subject before he could think of anything.

"You are going to keep an eye on her, then?"

Anakin nodded. "I can feel her in the Force, now more than ever before. I won't let anything touch her."

"And what's going to happen, later, when you get called back to the front lines?"

"I… don't really know." The thought had never occurred to Anakin before; he assumed this was his new mission, to marry Padmé. He had almost forgotten that a war still raged in the galaxy, and he was a key role in the success of that war. The Council would no doubt have to call him back to duty at some point. He just hoped it wasn't for a long while yet. He didn't know what would happen to Padmé if he ever left her.

"Well," said Ruwee. "I don't want to see my daughter killed, Skywalker. People have tried to assassinate her before, so I hope that you'll doing everything in your power to prevent that from happening."

"I can't prevent what people think of her," said Anakin seriously. "But I can make sure they can't get to her."

"That's all I ask," said Ruwee, seemingly satisfied. "I think you've got your head on straight, Skywalker. Just make sure it stays that way."


	17. Chapter 17

_**Note from the Author**  
><em>

**A long(er) chapter! Oh, the luxury! I couldn't wrangle DawnsJediWind for this one, but some of the ideas were from her. DJW, sorry, I didn't use the 'duck flambé' idea, but I came close. For everyone else, enjoy! And we are getting closer to... I don't know, I think this is pretty entertaining and exciting right now. :)**

**Be sure to comment!**

**{trinity6diversia}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen<strong>

The next morning, before Padmé was even awake, Anakin took the gondola skiff and slipped out onto the lake, heading for town. He forwent his daily meditation, because he was already plenty relaxed and the quiet trip to town would be a nice addition. They would be leaving Naboo the next day, back to civilized country, and the food at the lake retreat was running low. Padmé's parents hadn't taken into account the appetite of Anakin Skywalker.

Pulling up at the dock reserved for Padmé and her family, Anakin threw the lines to the port attendant, who secured them on the cleats. He didn't realize how strange he might look, a Jedi Knight, driving a gondola skiff like he'd been doing it his entire life. He wasn't _all_ Jedi Knight; his clothes were different, and he'd forgone his lightsaber in favor of a small Nabooian blaster hidden away in his belt. But he was Anakin Skywalker, and that was hard for anyone to forget.

Jumping onto the dock, Anakin made for the open air market. The local farmers would bring their goods to the market, and it was the best place to get anything, from produce and meat, to seafood pulled up from the great lakes, all the way to fibers used to make clothes. The varieties were many, and the possibilities were endless.

Anakin could sense the paparazzi before he could see them. They were everywhere, and their eyes and lenses were directed at him. He could hear their thoughts. They wondered where Padmé was, and if the newlyweds had consummated their marriage, and some were already writing up whole articles about this one small sighting of the Hero With No Fear. Most of them, however, were wondering if Padmé was pregnant. That seemed to be the big question. A very few were _certain_ she was, and Anakin knew by the time they flew into Coruscant airspace the next day, the tabloids would be screaming a lie.

And then the paparazzi were on him, cameras flashing as they fought to get a picture of him.

_"Master Skywalker, how goes the honeymoon?"_

_"Are there any pregnancy announcements forthcoming?"_

_"Skywalker, what do you do to romance your wife?"_

And that was when Anakin snapped.

"Get out of my way," he said, and his voice was like the growl of a feral beast. The bass level of his voice reverberated on those closest to him, and they stopped, stepping back. This… this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Most didn't hear him, though, or heard him and ignored. Anakin Skywalker was the talk of the Republic, the center of the galaxy, the One. He wasn't a war hero, they told themselves. Those days were over. His fight was gone. But it wasn't. And they were fools to think themselves safe, just because this man didn't have his lightsaber. They had stepped into dangerous territory, and they didn't even care.

Anakin flexed his hands, hearing the metal workings of his mechno-arm bending dangerously at his side. Slowly, his fingers curled into fists, and as they did so, his connection with the Force grew to an overpowering level. Overpowering for others, that is; not for Anakin Skywalker. It gave him life, strength, a deadly power he told himself he could control. Most of the time.

With the sound of splintering metal and shattering glass, every camera lens within Anakin's perimeter was nothing more than crunched metal. They looked like tin cans smashed underfoot, and Anakin hadn't even raised a hand. The faces who held those cameras were frozen in shock, staring at the thousands of dollars of equipment that was nothing more than scrap metal. And then a blast hit all who were unfortunate enough to be in close proximity to Anakin, and they were thrown backwards with the force of a hundred tornados. They hit those standing behind them and kept going, smashing into walls, tables and speeders. A second later, Anakin stood alone in a circle of groaning bodies, broken cameras and glass.

"What happened here?!" demanded an officer of the law, running up to where Anakin stood, one hand on his blaster. When he saw who it was, his hand dropped away, but his expression remained.

"They'll get over it," said Anakin mildly, then handed the officer a pile of credits. "Sorry for the mess."

One of the paparazzo staggered upright as best he could in his condition, and reached for Anakin, his voice slurred. "Master Skywalker, is your wife pregnant?" _Relentless!_ Anakin calmly kicked him in the face, then stepped over his groaning body and passed out of the disaster zone, like he didn't have a care in the world. He could feel an element of the Dark Side slipping through his veins, and he couldn't care less.

The market was a nice place to get his senses back, and Anakin finally started to feel a bit of remorse for what he'd done. His body relaxed, and for a while, he just walked the streets, not really looking, his mind in the meditation land he always went to when the pressure was too much. He went there a lot after battles, but he never thought he'd go there while walking the streets of a small Naboo town. It sickened him.

After a while, Anakin found himself in front of a meat counter, staring blindly at a pile of ducks, shot that day, and already plucked and gutted. He shook himself when the man at the counter asked if he wanted anything.

"I… uh… give me a minute."

It was less than a minute. Anakin discovered he was in the center of the market, far from where he had started, and after getting his bearings, he turned back to the man.

"I'll take one," he said. "Uh, no, make that two. Do dogs eat duck?"

"Mine do," answered the man. "It's all they can catch in the North Marshes."

"Let's do three," said Anakin, and as the man wrapped them up, he grabbed a pound of fresh bacon. He loved bacon. Too bad there wasn't anything good on Coruscant. He suddenly decided he didn't like city planets.

With the ducks and bacon in tow, Anakin browsed, picking things up as he saw fit, until he had a load of vegetables, herbs and spices, two loaves of bread and a bouquet of flowers. Padmé would undoubtedly hear about his conflict in town, and he wanted to ensure she didn't get _too_ mad. As he made his way in the direction of the docks, Anakin saw a small tent on the edge of the market, and it intrigued him. Going in, he discovered the vender was selling, of all things, hot sauce.

"How is it on duck?" Anakin asked the only man in the tent, who was sprawled over a chair. He picked up a bottle of smoked viper habanero with white vodka. The viper habanero was the hottest pepper known to man; everything else would just kill you. The man raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Not bad at all," he answered. "The vodka really does something for ya."

"I bet," said Anakin. "I'll take it."

"No charge," said the man. "My gift to you."

Anakin knew why, and gave the man a look that _said_ he knew, before adding it to his vast supply of food and leaving the tent. The man laughed as he went out. Anakin could hear his thoughts, too. _Poor bastard; he seemed like a nice fella, too._

_You have no idea,_ thought Anakin to himself, grinning as he made for the docks.

Padmé was waiting for him when he arrived. She was laying on the couch in the sunroom, both dogs sprawled over her, absently watching the waves on the lake. She was dressed, but she hadn't pulled her hair up, and her feet were bare. She was in the utmost state of relaxation, and Anakin knew, if he had given her a few more minutes, she would have been contentedly asleep. Alas, no. As soon as he walked in, both dogs were on him, and the stillness was broken by happy yips and slobbery kisses.

"Where did you run off to?" asked Padmé, her eyes laughing at him as he disengaged himself from the dogs and went over to give her a tiny kiss.

"I'm making dinner," he said, grinning at her, and that was all he said. He didn't wait to be hounded by questions as he went into the kitchen and started unloading his loot. It didn't matter; Padmé was there a second later.

"Cooking? You?"

"Of course me."

"You can… cook?"

"Come on, Padmé. The bachelor life teaches you some things."

"But Obi-Wan…"

"Obi-Wan can't cook to save his life. Satine is a brave woman to endure him for it."

"That's… surprising. I thought Obi-Wan would be, I don't know, well endowed in the cuisine department."

"Not on your life," laughed Anakin. "But I, on the other hand, haven't killed anyone with my cooking."

"And Obi-Wan has?"

"Almost."

"Lucky you."

"Not me. I wouldn't touch it. Master Windu was the unfortunate victim."

"That explains why he hates you so much."

"Well, I was the smarter one when that happened. I used sanitation gloves and a breathing mask when I threw it away."

"Overkill."

"For _that_ stuff? There was no such thing as overkill."

Padmé sauntered over to him and ran a hand down his torso, a seductive and almost devilish look on her face. She leaned upwards to his ear, but didn't kiss him.

"Surprise me," she whispered, and he could feel her hot breath on his ear. Then she pulled away and slipped out of the kitchen with a backwards glance at her young husband. He cringed. She was baiting him. He wondered if he should forgo dinner. No. He couldn't. Food was, well… dang it!

Dinner was on time, despite the late start. Anakin decided that extracurricular activities helped his cooking process, and didn't regret them one bit. It helped, too, that Padmé had invited her parents to dinner, so there were no more delays after the initial one. She and Jobal took the dogs on a walk along the beach, talking about things that were for female ears only. It must have been serious, too, because Padmé had her arms crossed the entire time, and Anakin knew it; he could see her out the window. He didn't pry with the Force, though; her thoughts were her own.

Ruwee had brought beer, and he joined Anakin in the kitchen, where the podrace was streaming live from Tatooine. Anakin had broken into the security filters just to access this single game, and Padmé wasn't necessarily pleased, but she approved it. He _claimed_ it was important. So he and Ruwee sat in the kitchen, drinking beer and watching the podrace while the duck cooked. And then the women were back, and the food was out of the oven, and everyone sat down to eat.

Anakin's duck got tremendous reviews, and Padmé gave him a look from the other end of the table which told him that she was a believer in his culinary talents. He raised his fork and tipped his head to acknowledge her approval, all while Jobal was exclaiming over the vegetables. She told Padmé how lucky she was to have such a man, and told Anakin that, if ever he left the Jedi Order, he could come and be her personal chef.

"I would recommend Obi-Wan for that," said Anakin between mouthfuls.

"Anakin!" Padmé's exclamation brought his eyes, laughing, to meet hers, while her parents silently wondered what inside joke they had missed.

The dogs shared a whole duck, lightly cooked, and devoid of seasonings. It was a treat, to be sure. Anakin nearly ate an entire duck on his own, but not quite, and every piece of meat was covered in a thick layer of the smoked viper habanero with white vodka. It was amazing, as far as Anakin was concerned. Ruwee read the bottle and almost dropped it in his haste to gain distance. And after that, all three of them watched Anakin eat with a mix of horror and respect. He never even broke a sweat. And then the meal was over, and Padmé and Jobal hastened to clear the table.

"I heard some strange things from town today," said Ruwee, leaning back in his chair. "They say it was like a disaster zone, a meteor or something, took out half the town. Lots of people in the hospital, and they're all Republic reporters." He glanced quickly at Anakin, at the same time Padmé did, and for a second, Anakin acted like he hadn't heard, before looking up timidly, first at Padmé, then at her father.

"It wasn't half the town," he said casually. "It was like… a little section of the street. And there wasn't much damage."

"The officers on the scene acquired enough money to fix damages to the town," added Ruwee, glancing between Anakin and Padmé. Padmé still hadn't moved, the stunned look on her face still fresh.

"Stop that, Padmé," said Anakin after a minute. "That look is going to freeze to your face."

"Oh, that won't be the only thing frozen," she snapped, then stormed out of the room, leaving Anakin in a soon-to-be-_very_-familiar state of 'What did I do this time?'

"I wondered how long it would take you to snap," said Ruwee in a low voice after Padmé had left. "Those reporters are not in my good graces."

"I don't know why moral people think they can ask questions like that," said Anakin, looking down at his empty plate.

"You know why she's upset, don't you?" asked Ruwee after a minute. Anakin didn't move. "The Chancellor has to know about this by now, and the Council. You have very powerful friends who can very quickly turn to enemies. This can't go over very well. They'll ask you to tell them why, and put you on the defensive."

"And I'll tell them."

"Tell them what?"

"For my wife, yeah, I'd do just what I did, again and again and again."

Ruwee said nothing, and when Anakin looked up, he saw the man casually drinking his beer, like he didn't have a care in the world.

"You're not angry with me?"

"Why would I be angry with you, Skywalker? You just took out the paparazzi. _Your_ paparazzi, as far as the Republic is concerned. You're like the son I never had."

"Well, technically…"

"Yes, you are." He smiled and raised his bottle. "Here's to fathers and sons."

And Anakin could take that toast.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Note from the Author**  
><em>

**Another great chapter from DawnsJediWind! I added a bit of my own stuff, too, but the basic chapter is all her, which is awesome. She threw in some great ideas, some unexpected plot twists, and overall awesomeness. I added the humor and sarcasm. As usual. Be sure to check her out and comment on her stories!  
><strong>

**As always, be sure to comment on this chapter. I have another one coming up, also written by DJW, and after that, who knows! Hopefully, a lot. :)**

**{trinity6diversia}**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen<strong>

The J-class Nubian yacht descended gradually into the thick atmosphere of Coruscant, the lights of the city-planet below bouncing off its chromium exterior. It was flanked on either side by two Naboo starfighters. The Queen had insisted they accompany them on the return journey to Coruscant. Anakin had not asked for the escort; he could took care of any attack by himself. But both the Queen and Padmé had insisted on the extra security, so he gave in. Despite the overall peacefulness of their past two weeks, it could not be ignored that the Republic was still at war, and the conflict started, and would assuredly end, on Coruscant. There was also the growing trouble with the Supreme Chancellor, all of which heighted the possibility of assassination attempts on the lives of numerous Senators and military commanders. Anakin himself was certainly not loved by those who sided with the Separatists and their cause.

As soon as he had been granted air clearance onto Coruscant, Anakin steered the ship easily down onto the platform reserved for them. He breathed a very small sigh of relief, glad he had not scratched Padmé's precious ship, not that she would have killed him either way, then rose and left the cockpit in search of his wife, leaving Artoo in charge of locking and securing the ship. He found Padmé checking the last of the baggage, making certain she was not leaving anything behind. She was dressed in one of her elaborate Senatorial gowns, the kind she usually wore while the Senate was in session, since that would be the first place she would return to as soon as the media interviews were finished. Anakin cringed at the idea of having to sit through more interviews; the stay on Naboo had not been long enough for his taste.

"Ready?" The cameras and media hounds were waiting for them right down the boarding ramp, along with thousands of cameras broadcasting their arrival live on the Holonet. This was a bigger deal than the Podrace Championship Game, and everyone would be watching them. There was no way they would ever be allowed on Coruscant unwelcomed by the media again. _Unless there was a battle over Coruscant, and the media were all shot down, _Anakin thought sourly. After Naboo, he would stand no more of the media prying into their affairs; Naboo had been a warning to the Galactic social-media; next time Anakin would not be so merciful. The Dark Side played no part in this; if the media tried to encroach upon their privacy again, he would make sure a great many people lost their limbs.

Padmé nodded as Anakin reached down to pick up a load of suitcases. She stiffened as Anakin stood up, adjusting his load. He felt a suddenly overwhelming amount of worry and frustration from her through the Force, and sent her a warm tendril of affection and peace through the bond they had established since the events on Naboo. Her anger at his actions the day before had dissipated with sleep, and it didn't matter anyway; Anakin couldn't be tamed.

_It'll be alright,_ Anakin assured her. _Just stay close by and I'll take care of you. _

"I know," said Padmé, looking sadly up at him, but she smiled anyway. "I love you."

"I love you too, Angel." Anakin leaned over and kissed the top of her head before pulling away. Padmé's new nickname had not been premeditated, nor had it bothered her, for it reminded her who was now, and probably would always be, the first priority in Anakin Skywalker's life. He grinned as her train of thought reached him, then started down the boarding ramp, closely followed by his wife, carrying the last few things, and the dogs, bounding less rambunctiously after them.

Anakin was nearly blinded by the swarm of lights that flashed in his face as he stepped out. He glanced back to make sure Padmé was behind him, and found her covering her face from the flashes, her lips set in a tight grimace. _Oh great, the Chancellor is going to **love** these photos._ He groaned inwardly; his hands were full. He wished he could disable the cameras like he had before, but this was the big news story, the thing that made the Republic forget what the _real_ problem was, and if he did anything now, he would unleash hell. It helped too, seeing Obi-Wan pushing his way through the crowd towards them, a familiar face in a sea of absurdity.

"Obi-wan!" Anakin called over the noise of reporters and cameras.

"Anakin, this way," Obi-wan said, grabbing a bag with one hand and Padmé's arm with the other, pulling her between them in an attempt to partially protect her from the cameras. He and Anakin pushed through the crowd in the direction of the waiting Jedi speeder, throwing the bags haphazardly into the back, then the dogs, then helping Padmé in last. Obi-Wan lowered his voice and spoke quickly to Anakin. "The Chancellor is here, Anakin. He wants to see you—both of you."

"Let's just get away from here first," said Anakin, sliding into the driver's seat almost out of habit, because Obi-Wan never stopped him anymore. Obi-Wan took the passenger's seat, glancing back to make sure Padmé was settled. She must have been; both dogs were curled up on either side of her, their heads on her lap, eyes half closed as she lazily stroked back their ears. Almost as if this whole media frenzy thing was old news, except for Thunder's ears, which flicked every time someone yelled a question their way.

And then they were gone, racing through the skies of Coruscant in the general direction of the Senate Building.

"Anakin?" Padmé's voice soothed his anger easier than he thought possible.

"Huh?"

"You remember how I want a jet tub and that bed from Corellia, right?"

"Yep."

"Can you add a speeder with a closed top and tinted windows to that list?"

Anakin laughed. "Of course, my love. But I thought you already had one."

"Not one that you can drive."

"Then I'll get one for you," he said, his voice making the promise official, then shared a quick glance in the rearview finder with his wife, who smiled softly back at him. It amazed him to no end how quickly his anger dissipated when she was around.

They were at the Senate Building faster than Anakin thought possible, and waiting for them were even more reporters, nearly twice as many as the landing platform, from what Anakin could see. The Chancellor and several of his Senators, _minions, _Anakin privately thought, were waiting for them, standing as if at a funeral. Anakin forced a smile which looked most realistic onto his face, knowing Padmé was probably doing the same, and greeted the Chancellor as genuinely as possible. Anakin was not an expert when it came to politics – he was glad to be married to Padmé for that and other reasons – but the knowledge that the Chancellor was more than he seemed was enough to convince Anakin to vote for someone else, if the opportunity ever arose.

_All of this isn't natural. _ Obi-Wan's words rang in Anakin's mind as he fell into step with his old master. Padmé was already deep in conversation with the Chancellor. Anakin quickly realized that the camera flashes didn't seem abnormal in the great expanse of the Senate Building. What bothered him most was that before any of this had happened, he and Chancellor had been on relatively good terms. Anakin now questioned the wisdom of that friendship, and wondered what the Chancellor's motives were for him – and for Padmé. He knew that the Chancellor had been behind the arranged marriage, and was a terrific force of pressure in the plot for Skywalker children, but Anakin sensed there was sometime more; the Chancellor was not finished with him, not yet.

"Anakin, you seemed troubled," Obi-wan quietly said, his voice pulling his young apprentice back to the present.

"Sorry, Master," Anakin answered apologetically. "I'm just… tired."

Obi-wan nodded. "And I iron my underwear."

"What?"

"Relax, Anakin. I understand. All of this must be exhausting for you and Padmé, and I'm afraid it will only get worse. But I don't get the sense that you're all _that_ tired."

"You… iron your underwear?"

"Focus, Anakin."

"Well _do_ you?"

"Why on _earth_ would I do that?"

"Well… you vacuum the main hall of the Jedi Temple after every mission. I just wanted to make sure you hadn't fallen off the deep end."

"I deny any involvement with that."

"They got it on camera."

"Shit."

"I ran intervention, remember?"

"We weren't talking about me, Anakin; we were talking about you."

"And what about me?" Anakin asked, although he could already guess the answer.

"The Council demands an explanation from you for the _accident _on Naboo, as well as for why Padmé hasn't become pregnant yet. I'm afraid they're very insistent. I tried talking to Master Windu about leaving you alone, but you know how he is. Apparently, they think having sex is as easy as flying a starfighter. For you, at least."

"Well, we're not necessarily on friendly terms with Master Windu. Me for my lack of procreation. And you for… other reasons."

Obi-wan hid a smile, but said in all seriousness; "Be obedient, Anakin. The Council expects you to take this seriously."

"I know, Master. Force help how much I know."

It was mid-afternoon by the time Anakin and Padmé were able to get away from the media and their interviews. Padmé went to the Senate meeting scheduled that afternoon, which apparently was a report from the front lines, and Anakin to the Jedi Temple, and a dreaded Council Meeting. The Chancellor hadn't really wanted to see Anakin, only wished to look him in the eye, as if that would tell him anything. Anakin guessed it didn't, because he was greeted by a grimace.

"Don't do it again, Master Skywalker," the Chancellor said finally. "I pay those reporters good money for what they do. No more injuries. No more broken cameras."

Anakin had always hated facing the Council, even when they were on good terms, which this time they were not. As soon as he entered the Council Chamber, he feltthe very air steam with the sheer pressure of annoyance and displeasure. He forced himself to stay calm and not to roll his eyes, a habit he had tried valiantly to break before… and failed. Anakin strode to the center of the room, clasped his hands behind his back, and waited.

There was silence for several very long minutes, in which Anakin began to wonder if he had stunned or annoyed the Council into speechlessness. _That _would have been a first. And it certainly would have made his day.

"Disobedient and reckless, you are," said Yoda.

_That just **had** to be the first thing you pointed out… again_.

"Tempted to put you on probation, I am," Yoda continued dryly.

The last statement got under Anakin's skin. He would not bow his head and humbly submit to the decisions of the Council just because of something he believed was right.

Anakin turned to Master Yoda, a spark of anger in his eyes. "For what? Protecting Senator Amidala from the idiotic media. I think _none _of you understand what I'm going through and what reason I give for my actions."

"Please," said Mace Windu in that casual voice that made Anakin just want to punch him. "Explain it to us."

Anakin felt annoyance at Windu, but he shoved that feeling deep down for later, and said without a moment of hesitation, "I will, Masters." He paused. "It was this very Council that _ordered _me to marry Senator Amidala, for the only reason being to mass-produce my midichloriancount for the next generation of Jedi." A flicker of bewilderment passed through the Council's eyes as they realized Anakin knew very well what their intensions had been for him, and it pleased the young Jedi Knight. "I have respected your wishes, and married the Senator. But I will not tolerate you ordering anything beyond that, nor will I tolerate you judging me for what I do to protect my wife. I will not have the media crawling all over us, or any other dirty rat who thinks it worth their while to mess with me. Now, if you can't understand that, I advise _you_ to get married _yourself_!" And this last comment was directed towards Master Windu, a man Anakin couldn't imagine loving any woman, ever, in his entire life.

"That is absurd, Skywalker," Windu said, his voice calm, but his eyes flashing at the indignity of the idea.

"Is it? Why do I get the marital problems and no one else in here?" He glanced around at the rest of the Council.

"Trouble in paradise, there is?" asked Yoda, only his eyes laughing so Master Windu would not see his amusement.

"Well… no," admitted Anakin a little adamantly.

"Understand this, you must, Skywalker. A reputation, you must keep, and that of the Senator's. Dark times, these are. Good, heroic, the people must see you as, even in your affairs with the Senator. Capable of your Council's wishes, and the Republic, you must be. But sense, I do, there is more you wish to say. Of the Senator, I sense. Speak, Skywalker, and hear your argument, we will."

Anakin bowed his head. Of the two, he could stand Yoda a hell of a lot better than Windu, despite his green master's habit of speaking in backward riddles.

"I'm not ready to bring a child into the Senator's life. She's not ready. Force knows she isn't. Not yet. And these things take time; we're still getting to know each other. The Senator and I will conceive when we're ready, and we're currently not."

Yoda nodded. "Understand this, I do. But not so for the Council and Chancellor. To the front lines, soon you must return. Pregnant the Senator must become. Die, you might."

Anakin frowned, but said nothing; there was nothing he _could_ say.

"Understand this, you must," Yoda continued wisely. "Right decision, you will make. Of that, certain, I am."

"Yes, Master," Anakin said, bowing stiffly, then left without another word, the defeat strong to him, and the loneliness bitter.

"You must understand how this is for your own good," Obi-Wan said, later that evening after he had come by Padmé apartment to talk with Anakin.

"I know," said Anakin, annoyed not only by Obi-Wan by also by the fact that he had a raging headache and the apartment was suddenly too damn uncomfortable for his liking. He rubbed his temple and ran a hand through his hair, sinking into the sofa with a sigh.

"This isn't all about Padmé, is it?" Obi-Wan sat down across from him.

Anakin rested his head back and closed his eyes, glad that the balcony curtains to the living room were open so that a breeze could come in. The sun had set, but the sky was still pink on the edges.

"Do you care to tell me?" Obi-Wan asked. Anakin could feel that his master was understandably worried about him.

Anakin sighed again. "I'm worried about the Chancellor and his motives. We used to be close, before the war, and now I'm beginning to wonder why. Heads of government are usually not so close to their military leaders, especially Jedi. I don't trust him, Obi-Wan, nor do I trust the Council. They're up to something, I feel it. But the Chancellor is worse. Something isn't right about him."

"Perhaps," Obi-wan agreed. "I don't entirely trust either of them. Words have been spoken, actions have been made that aren't entirely the Jedi way. The outcry from Windu earlier has made me wonder…" His voice drifted to silence as he sensed Padmé's approach.

Anakin opened his eyes, but didn't move as Padmé appeared from the direction of their bedroom.

"Obi-Wan, it's so nice to see you again," she said, her diplomatic Senatorial training clear in her calm voice. "Will you be staying for dinner? We are eating late tonight."

"Oh, goodness no. There was a Giju slider eating competition at Dex's today, and well, let's just say I didn't win. I just stopped by to talk with Anakin. I will be going now, to catch up on my beauty sleep. You should too, Senator." Obi-Wan smiled kindly at Padmé, bowing as he did so, then turned to Anakin, and said, "I think I will speak with Master Yoda on this matter. I think we can trust him."

Anakin nodded, without standing up; his legs suddenly didn't want to work. "Goodnight, Master."

"Goodnight, Anakin."

And then there was silence, broken only by Padmé showing Obi-Wan out of the apartment. Before the door closed behind him, though, Anakin raised his voice.

"Giju slider competition? That must have been something to see."

"You missed out, I'm afraid. It was the fried blubberbird egg that finally took me out."

"And that's exactly why I don't live with you anymore, Obi-Wan."

Grabbing a pillow, Anakin laid against the sofa's arm, listening as Padmé said goodnight to Obi-Wan and the door closed behind him. The next thing Anakin knew, Padmé was sitting down beside him on the sofa.

"What was that all about?" she asked, worry edging her voice.

Anakin sighed, not ready or willing to find the energy he needed to speak. Padmé had enough concerns of her own.

"Nothing, sweetie." _Yet_.

He could tell that Padmé was displeased with his answer. "Anakin, if we're going to make this work, we'd better start right. Whatever's going on, I want to know." When Anakin didn't reply, Padmé softened her voice and reached over to stroke back his hair. "Anakin, don't do this. Don't shut me out. Let me help you."

Anakin sighed and reached out for her. "I'm not pushing you away. I just… don't want you to worry." He gathered her up in his arms and pulled her down beside him, kissing her forehead. "It'll be fine, Padmé, I promise. We'll make this work… somehow."


	19. Chapter 19

_**Note from the**_** _Author_**

**Yet another great chapter from DawnsJediWind! The excitement is just starting! This one I did very little on, and I know it's a little short. I think her inspiration died. But my inspiration died too, so I didn't add anything more. Enjoy! **

**{trinity6diversia}**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen<strong>

"Do we have to go?" whined Anakin, adjusting his utility belt while Padmé arranged his cloak over his broad shoulders.

Since returning to Coruscant five days before, they had quickly fallen into the pattern of married life. Anakin, being the morning person that he was, woke up first, prepared breakfast, then woke Padmé if she was not already up. They would eat together, focusing on topics that were not work-related, then each would go to their daily activities: Padmé to the Senate and Anakin to the Jedi Temple or Obi-Wan's pad. Anakin found that he liked married life. He especially liked the fact that after a long, hard day of attending never-ending Council meetings or going over reports constantly flooding in from the front lines, it was nice to come home to a warm dinner and even warmer company. It was just the two of them now, excluding Artoo, Threepio and the dogs, and Anakin enjoyed the quiet, laid-back atmosphere of married life, so long as life-changing choices didn't have to be made in those moments.

"Yes," Padmé said patiently, brushing his tunic flat. "Besides, you might find you like the opera."

"I doubt it," grumbled Anakin, remembering several times dragged off by his Padawan whenever the urge for something more interesting than smashball hit her. Ahsoka was on Shili now, having been unable to make for their wedding, though Padmé had insisted on inviting her. Anakin suddenly realized he hadn't thought of his Padawan in a long time, at least not since the sudden mention of her on Mandalore. He briefly wondered how she was doing, what with her new status as Missus Lux Bonteri. _ Note to self, _he thought, _call her tomorrow between meetings._

"Anakin?" Padmé's voice pulled Anakin out of his thoughts.

He blinked and looked down at her. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Yes, I know." Padmé brushed away some hair from Anakin's cloak, since the dogs liked to sleep on it. "You've been doing that a lot lately."

"I know. I'm sorry," Anakin apologized with a sheepish grin and a twinkle of his eyes. Before all of this, before Padmé, thinking was barely in his capacity. _I guess things change when you promise your life to someone else. Dang it._

Padmé smiled fondly up at Anakin. "Come on, it's time we were off."

"Fine," Anakin agreed reluctantly, and sighed. This was going to be one awfully long evening.

"It's only for a few hours, darling." Padmé shrugged into her long cloak that perfectly matched her red evening gown. "It'll be over before you know it."

"Doubt it."

"Fine, I give you full permission to fall asleep."

Anakin grinned. "I love you."

Padmé smiled. "I know. Now, let's go, we're already late."

_How in the hell am I supposed to understand this?_ Anakin shifted in his seat for the ninth time in the past two minutes, and tried to look fascinated in whatever strange story was playing out on stage. It was the famous Coruscanti Space Opera, which was just one step closer to a Soap Opera, Anakin had just recently found out, and it was in a language Anakin had never heard of before in his life. The small screens behind the seats in front of them translated the lines for those not fluent in – uh, whatever the language was – but it still didn't make sense.

_Probably just the usual scandalous love affair where the lovers die in the _end, sighed Anakin. _I suppose it's not worth reading the translations anyway._ He leaned further back in his seat. The music was nice, despite the high-pitched voices, and the atmosphere was warm and cozy, and dark. Anakin closed his eyes. Padmé had granted him permission to sleep, so he must not let it go to waste. He reached into the Force, intending to calm his mind with a little mediation before falling into deepest slumber. As he did so, he brushed against Padmé's conscious, and was pleased to feel how relaxed and at ease she seemed. He was glad that she had taken his advice, and had drunk one more glass of wine before coming here. They had attended dinner with Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, a very dull affair where the three Senators had talked politics and Anakin tried desperately to stay awake even then. Bail had only just returned to Coruscant from Alderaan.

Anakin was almost to the point of slipping over the edge when suddenly he felt a pang of nausea shoot through Padmé. He heard her gasp, and his eyes snapped open. He bolted upright in his seat, and grabbed her hand as Padmé paled and clutched her stomach.

"Padmé, what is it?" Anakin asked in a harsh, worried whisper.

Padmé didn't answer, but rubbed her stomach to soothe it, then shook her head. The nausea was gone in a minute, and she felt normal again. Anakin relaxed his grip on her hand, the Space Opera forgotten, replaced by a strengthening concern for his wife above all else. Several minutes later, Padmé was again assailed by nausea and pain, this time on a crippling level.

"Anakin, g-get me out of here," Padmé gasped.

Anakin stood and helped her to her feet, ushering her quickly out, concern clawing at him. Padmé had been fine all day; he was certain she wouldn't have insisted on attending the opera if she hadn't been well beforehand. She was a normally healthy person, not given to strange bouts of illness, and she had been fine at dinner and when the opera had started.

As soon as they made it to the empty hallway outside the theater, Padmé sat down on a nearby bench to rest, Anakin close beside her. He noticed she was unusually pale and worn-looking, and that she had broken out in a cold sweat, the hair around her face laying damp on her forehead.

"What's wrong?" Anakin asked, peering at her closely and brushing the damp hair away from her face.

"I-I'm not sure." Padmé's voice was barely above a whisper. She looked at Anakin and there was fear in her eyes. "I feel strange, Anakin. E-everything is foggy. I can't focus on anything." She touched her head, as if doing so would steady herself.

Anakin put a hand to her forehead. "You're burning up. I'm taking you to the medical ward at the Temple. I don't like the look of this."

Padmé stood, then stumbled back to the bench, a hand to her head. "E-everything is so hazy—I'm so cold."

Anakin frowned, and quickly gathering her up in his arms, striding off quickly in the direction of the speeder deck. As soon as he had reached it, he put Padmé carefully in the passenger's seat, and pulled out his comlink, connecting to Obi-Wan's signal as he swung himself down into the driver's seat and ignited the thrusters.

"Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan, do you copy?!"

Anakin let out a relieved breath when he heard his master's voice on the other end. "Anakin, I'm here. What is it?"

"Master, something is wrong with Padmé." Anakin juggled his comlink as he steered the speeder through the throngs of parked vehicles and out of the garage. "She's suddenly sick, I can't explain it."

Obi-Wan didn't waste any time. "Bring her to Temple medical ward. That way, I'll be with you when you do something crazy and maybe I'll stop you before that happens. We don't want Padmé dragged through the tabloids because her husband is cracked in the head."

"Yeah right, Obi-Wan. Have I ever been known to do something crazy?" Anakin didn't want for a reply. He quickly severed the connection and swerved recklessly through traffic in the direction of the Jedi Temple. He wove in and out of speeders, almost colliding with them on several occasions, but somehow diving out of the way just in time. His connection with the Force kept him several seconds ahead of his human body.

"Anakin." Padmé's eyes closed tightly and she clutched her stomach after her young husband made a particularly sharp turn. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Hold on." Anakin's foot never left the accelerator. "We'll be there in just a moment — _no!_" He yelled when Padmé doubled over and retched all over the dashboard. _No! _Anakin's face was frozen in horror, not at the sight of Padmé puking — he could handle that — but by the fact that she had puked all over his nice, new, _clean speeder!_

Padmé sat up, some color coming back to her cheeks, and sighed as Anakin sped into a parking space before the Jedi Temple. He jumped out, just as Obi-Wan appeared with two of the Temple healers and a levitated cot between them.

"How is she?" Obi-Wan asked as Anakin carried Padmé to the cot and gently laid her on it.

"Well, she threw up all over my speeder," Anakin answered with a grim look on his face, crossing his arms as he and Obi-Wan followed the healers towards the medical ward.

"Force, no!" gasped Obi-Wan in mock horror. Anakin gave him a murderous look which Obi-Wan returned with amusement.

In the medical ward, the healers transferred Padmé to a soft bed where they could tend to her properly. Anakin and Obi-Wan stood to the side, watching with concern as the head of the ward took a blood sample and tested it. Another gave Padmé a shot of something to kill the pain and nausea, and to help her relax. She slowly slipped into an induced sleep as the head of the ward returned from the testing lab.

"Poison," he said, putting up his charts where the two Jedi could see them. "She's been poisoned."

"What?" asked Anakin, more surprised than he thought possible. "How?"

"It's a lethal toxin not found in the Republic," the healer informed them. "If you hadn't come as quickly as you did, Master Skywalker, her body would have been overrun by this toxin and… she would have died."

Obi-Wan frowned, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Why would someone poison her?"

The healer shrugged. "It's a very uncommon, very expensive toxin. Only someone like a Senator or Army Commander would have been able to afford it."

"I don't like the sound of this." Obi-Wan's frown deepened.

"No, neither do I…" Anakin paused, then suddenly his eyes flickered to the nearby window as a sudden threat screamed it's presence in his mind. "Duck!"

Everyone looked at him like he had gone mad, then suddenly a blaster shot shattered the window, and everyone dove for protection as several more shots were fired. Anakin ignited his lightsaber, deflecting the last of the shots from reaching Padmé. Realizing that he was caught, the assassin quickly fled, but not before Obi-Wan, who was the most sane of them all, had sent an activated homing beacon through the shattered window. It would follow the assassin wherever he went. Anakin, however, wasn't sane, nor practical, when things he liked were attacked. He made to dive through the window after the assassin, but Obi-Wan held him back.

"No, I have a homing beacon on him. We'll find him. Use your senses, Anakin. Don't let this get the better of you."

"He tried to kill Padmé, Master!"

"I understand. It isn't the first time. Let's use our senses this time."

Anakin took a deep breath. "No diving through windows."

"No diving through windows," grinned Obi-Wan, then quickly turned to leave the room. Anakin checked Padmé one last time, kissing her cheek as he did so, then followed his Master out of the room, leaping into a run as soon as he was clear.


End file.
